The Open Road
by Knilb17
Summary: I got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and, baby, you got me. RR, MC
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and, baby, you got me."  
  
Rating: PG  
  
(In my mind, this story is set somewhere around Season 6. I guess it can be set anywhere you'd like, in your own mind. After all, I'll never know :-) Chandler and Monica have already been dating and have moved in together. Ross and Rachel never broke up, and it's approaching their 4 year anniversary. Also, the gang never too that trip to Montauk.)  
  
"Okay, we've got 'Notting Hill and 'When Harry Met Sally'. Take your pick." Rachel stood before Ross, who was seated on the couch, in the living room of Monica and Chandler's apartment. He stretched his arms out over the top of the sofa and took in a deep breath, weighing over the respective pros and cons of either a night filled with Hugh Grant's more-than-slightly-annoying English accent or...Billy Crystal.   
  
"Well, enormous and wonderful as the selection is..." She smiled and cocked an eyebrow at him before throwing "When Harry Met Sally" in his direction, causing it to hit him square in the chest. He stifled a groan and set it on the coffee table.   
  
"Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts it is, then..." he quipped. She walked back towards the couch from the television, but before she could sit down, he playfully grabbed her leg, bringing her down and nestling her cozily with his arm around her at his side. She placed her legs across his lap and he pulled the soft brown afghan over them. It was Friday night, and that could only mean one thing- movie night.   
  
Chandler and Monica went out every Friday, and since their apartment was considerably larger than Ross and Rachel's, they stole it away for that one night, each week. Rachel always picked the movie, though, so it was inevitably some cheesy romantic comedy that she had probably already seen about 10 times. He didn't mind, though. Along with the usual "chick flick" came the expected love scene, which always managed to lead to activities entirely separate from watching the movie. He placed a lingering kiss along her hairline and thoughtlessly rubbed her thigh underneath the blanket.   
  
"Rach?" She was already enthralled in the movie, but she managed a detached "huh" at the sound of her name.   
  
"What do you think about getting away for our anniversary this year?" The question caused her to tear her eyes away from the screen and look up at him.   
  
"What do you mean? Get away to where?"   
  
"I don't know. Wherever. It doesn't matter. I just thought that since, you know, we've always just had a nice dinner and a movie for our anniversary, we could do something special this year." This earned him an excited smile. She scooted back a little so she could look at him, face-to-face. She eagerly grabbed his hand.  
  
"Really? Like, a weekend getaway?" The possibilities were endless: Rome, Paris, Italy, Barbados. She knew all of those places were entirely too expensive for them to afford, though, and there was somewhere she really WOULD like to visit that wouldn't cost hardly anything. She hadn't been to the beach house in Montauk that her parents owned since she was a little girl. It was such a beautiful beachfront condo, and a perfect place to spend an anniversary.   
  
"Ross, what about Montauk? I know that's not the MOST romantic place, but my parents had this beach house there when I was little. They still share join-custody of it, and I'm sure they wouldn't mind us staying there for a weekend!" Plus, she knew the inexpensive factor would definitely not hurt the appeal.   
  
"Yeah, that sounds great!"   
  
"What would be great?" They whirled around to see Chandler and Monica walk in the front door. It was already 11:00 pm. They must have started the movie a lot later than they thought. Monica tossed a set of car keys on the counter and began to remove her coat.   
  
"Guys? What would be great?" she repeated. Rachel answered, animatedly.   
  
"Ross and I decided to go up to my childhood beach house in Montauk next weekend!" Chandler and Monica's faces lit up with equal excitement.   
  
"Really? That's great! A trip to the beach would be awesome," Chandler stated. Ross and Rachel's faces dropped, realizing his obvious mistake.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, I remember that house, Rach! Remember when you took me with you for spring break! Aw, that was so much fun! I'll call Phoebe and Joey! Road trip!" Monica hurried off to the bedroom to use the phone, and Chandler went into the bathroom, leaving a very confused Ross and Rachel sitting alone on the couch.   
  
"How- how did that just happen?" Rachel mused.   
  
"I have no idea. Montauk, here we come."  
  
(Note: This is probably going to be my lightest of piece so far. That last one TOTALLY drained me. I thought a chance to rewrite the Montauk trip from a different angle with an arguably more mature Friends gang would be fun. I hope I do it justice. Review!) 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Open Road-   
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and, baby, you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
(In this story, Chandler and Monica have an Expedition. I love those things. They are such kickass cars!)  
  
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One week later, the gang was to meet at Monica and Chandler's at 8:00 am to get a head start for the beach. At about 10 minutes before 8:00, Ross and Rachel entered the apartment to find that everyone else was already there. Suitcases littered the entire living room and kitchen, and Chandler was looking over a map to find the "most scenic route". Ross took the map away from him, folded it up, and stuck it in his hip pocket.  
  
"Dude, I think there's only one POSSIBLE route. It's not that far away. Let's just get a move on; it's almost 8:00." Just then, Rachel noticed the hat that Joey was wearing for the first time. It was a white plastic visor, only it had two bills- one in the front, and one in the back. The front one was painted to look like a duck's bill.   
  
"Joey, honey, what's with the hat?"   
  
"Pretty cool, huh? Phoebe found it in her closet! She just let me have it! I didn't have to pay her or anything!" Joey's genuine excitement prohibited anyone from making any further sarcastic remarks.  
  
Everyone was dressed for the beach, and the scent of sunscreen wafted through the air. Soon, the back of the car was loaded up with suitcases, beach chairs, a volleyball net, and a beach ball (which Joey had insisted on blowing up BEFORE they packed it). They piled into the car with Chandler behind the wheel, Monica in the passenger's seat, Ross and Rachel in the first row, and Phoebe and Joey in the back seat with most of the luggage. Squeezed in tightly, they headed off with thoughts of a weekend at the beach floating through their minds.  
  
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About 10 minutes down the road, they had rolled down all the windows and turned the radio up. Van Morrison was belting out the lyrics to "Brown Eyed Girl", and Joey sang loudly along with him from the back seat. Monica sat with her right leg up on the dashboard and her seat reclined, plugging her ears with a headset of her own.   
  
"You got an extra pair of headphones over there, Mon?" Chandler asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly.  
  
"No, why? You want to drown out Joey?"   
  
"No, I want to use the chord to strangle him with it."   
  
Meanwhile, Rachel had made herself comfortable in the second row, sitting with her back against Ross' chest and stretching her legs out over the seat. She filed her fingernails, seemingly unaffected by Joey's off-key singing.   
  
"Don't listen to them, Joey. You go ahead and sing as much as you want." Ross made a face at her.   
  
"Really?" After a moment, she looked up at him as if she hadn't been sure that he'd said anything. She took two small piece of cotton out of her ears.  
  
"What'd you say, honey?" He nodded and smiled, rubbing the back of her neck with his right hand. She was wearing a pair of especially small jean shorts and a white tank top, extenuated by the red, halter-style bikini top that shown through from underneath it. Her hair was in a messy bun and she wore sunglasses up on her head. He could not remember ever seeing her look so beautiful or sexy. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.   
  
"Hey, sorry our romantic weekend kind of got ruined." She threw her head back to look up at him and smile, extending her lips to plant an exceptionally full kiss on his. Ending the kiss but not pulling her mouth away from his, she spoke against his lips.   
  
"Oh, I have a feeling this weekend is going to be more romantic thank you think." This earned her a cocked eyebrow and an inquisitive smile.   
  
"Yeah?" he inquired.   
  
"Oh yeah," she affirmed, an intentional sexiness teasing her voice.   
  
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Upon pulling up to the condo (though mansion would probably be a more accurate description), everyone starred in awe at the magnitude and beauty of it. It's was raised up on huge stilts (as most beachfront houses are), allowing for a makeshift two-car parking area underneath it. It was three stories high with a wrap-around balcony encircling the middle level, and two separate balconies coming off the back of the third to face the ocean. It's was made of a rich, dark wood that had not chipped nor faded from the harshness of time nor the elements.   
  
"Wow," Monica chimed in with enthusiasm, "I don't remember it being this big!"   
  
"Well, you know daddy. He always has to have the best." They climbed out of the car, grabbing armfuls of luggage and making their way to the door. When they stepped inside, the reaction was even greater than when they had first seen it from the street.  
  
The front door opened on the second level to a sunken foyer with hardwood floors. Straight ahead, there were two steps that led up to a wide hallway, at the end of which was the kitchen and dinning area. To the left, there was another set of small stairs which lead to an elegantly furnished living room, compete with a fireplace, black leather couches, and a bearskin rug. To the right, two steps lead to a quaint study. The entire back of the second level (off of which was the wrap-around balcony) was made of glass. The staircases leading down and up were off of the kitchen.  
  
The gang allowed themselves a moment to take it all in. After a few minutes of a silent calm, Rachel finally took the initiative and picked up her luggage.   
  
"Come on, guys, it's just a house! There are two bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs. Follow me." She led them through the kitchen and up an open metal staircase, which wound around like something from a medieval castle. The stairs at the top led to a wide hallway, off of which were two doors on the right, two on the left, and one at the end.  
  
"The two on the right are bedrooms," Rachel offered, "and the one at the end is a half-bath. There's a full bath attached to this first one on the right since it was my parents'. The second one was Amy's and Jill's to share. The first one on the left is just a small closet, but the second one is a lounge with a TV and stuff. Who wants what- you know, given that Ross and I get the one with the bathroom?" She smiled contentedly at Ross. Chandler and Monica both made disappointed faces, but quickly called the second available bedroom because of the view.   
  
"Okay, downstairs we go." Ross, Rachel, Monica and Chandler left their luggage in their respective rooms and everyone made their way back down to the kitchen, and then down another flight of stairs which led to the bottom floor.   
  
The bottom floor was really just one big room, with the exception of the two doors leading off (one on each side) the back of it. It appeared to be a big game room, of sorts, and would probably end up being where they spent most of their time. It was furnished with a white feather sectional couch, a black leather chair, a glass coffee table, a 51' TV set, an air hockey table, and an arcade-style Pacman game. There was even a wet bar that sat against the back wall. The guys were practically drooling.   
  
"Rachel," Chandler asked dreamily, "can I MARRY this room?"   
  
"Yeah, daddy really likes games...surprisingly. Anyway, those two doors back there lead to bedrooms. I guess Joey's in one and, Pheeb's, you can take the other one." Joey made a "How you doin'?" face and wrapped an arm around Phoebe.  
  
"You know, it doesn't have to be that way." She giggled and patted him on the head. Rachel stood in front of all of them and clasped her hands together in front of her.  
  
"So, what do you guys want to do first? There's the beach, or there are a lot of small beach shops around here to go to. Oh yeah, and there's a Jacuzzi on the back deck."   
  
Ross and Chandler leaned into each other and discreetly tapped fingers in their college guy kind of way, exchanging respective "Sweets" and "Scores". Rachel and Monica noticed, of course, but let them have their fun.   
  
"Let's go to the beach! I want to show off my cool hat!" Joey whined.   
  
So, they made their way out to the sand, carrying coolers, a volleyball net and a stereo. It was midday- just around noon- but they were only sharing the beach with a few dozen other people. They cranked the stereo up to find Bruce Springsteen singing boldly about "Sherry Darling", and the guys set up the net to get a volleyball game started. Meanwhile, the girls applied their tanning oil and settled into their chairs for a relaxing day of sunbathing.   
  
"Hey, Rach. Something just occurred to me," Monica stated after about an hour. "When you and Ross decided to come up here this weekend, did you not plan on us all being here?" Not sure quite how to answer that questions tactfully, Rachel hesitated and Monica noticed.   
  
"No, God, I'm so sorry! I can't believe I did that! Did we totally ruin your plans?" Phoebe was now listening and piped in from the other side of Rachel.  
  
"Yeah, did we, like, intrude on your 'bungalow of love'?"   
  
"No, no, guys, it's really okay! I mean, look how much fun we're all having! It's no big deal! Besides, I've got some pretty romantic stuff planned for Ross and me, anyway." The conversation was quickly turning into one of their infamous girl chats as Phoebe and Monica scooted in closer.   
  
"Really?" Monica asked excitedly. "Like what?"   
  
"Well, you know how our first date was at the planetarium?"  
  
"Yeah..." Phoebe encouraged.   
  
"Tonight, I'm going to set up this telescope from dad's office out on the beach, with a blanket and some wine, and I thought we could do some real star gazing." The three girls giggles loudly underneath the big stripped umbrella, causing the guys to stop their game.   
  
"What's so funny?" Ross asked.   
  
"Nothing!" Monica replied quickly, trying frantically to conceal the secret. "We were just, um..."  
  
"...laughing at Chandler's farmer's tan!" Phoebe finished. Monica smirked and Chandler looked down self-consciously.  
  
Just then, Ross ran towards the girls, picked Rachel up, threw her over his shoulder, and headed for the ocean with her. She giggled and playfully protested the entire way, squirming in his arms. The girls watched from their place on the beach, smiling nostalgically.   
  
"Do you think they'll be together forever?" Phoebe mused. Smiling warmly and seemingly lost in though, Monica shrugged and replied.   
  
"Yeah, I do. I mean, they're Ross and Rachel."  
  
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Around 6 pm, everyone came in from the beach with wet hair, sandy feet, and slightly tipsy from the half a cooler of beer they'd collectively finished off. They piled into the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets for food, only to realize that they'd forgotten to buy any on their way there that morning.   
  
"We'll run out and get some," Chandler and Monica offered. "We're kind of tipsy, so we'd better walk. We'll be back in, like, an hour or so." A look of panic crossed Joey's face.   
  
"What?! An HOUR? That's, like, the longest I've ever gone without eating!" Rachel tossed Joey an ice cream Snickers bar that had been in the fridge. She didn't bother mentioning that it was probably about a year old. She knew he wouldn't mind.  
  
"Alright, time for my afternoon nap. Wake me up when the food gets here." Phoebe exclaimed, before disappearing down the stairs. Joey followed her, undoubtedly to either monopolize the big screen TV or to catch a game of Pacman.   
  
Turning on her heels and offered a sexy and tantalizing smile to Ross. Sauntering across the room to where he was leaning against the counter, Rachel pressed her body up against him and ran her hands up his chest. Suddenly very aware of just how good her hair smelled and how salty and smooth her skin was, Ross smiled and wrapped his arms around her waste.   
  
"So, uh, it looks like it's just you and me." Suddenly, he picked her up by her waist, spun around, and plopped her down on top of the counter. This provoked his favorite noise in the entire world- that unmistakable, girlish giggle of hers. He ran his hands firmly up her thighs, stopping them at the top and leaning in to suck gently on her bottom lip. She grabbed a fist full of his shirt to pull him in closer, deepening the kiss. When she scooted up on the counter, pushing his stomach right up against her opened legs, he broke their kiss and moaned a little against her.   
  
"Hey, I have a feeling that if you did that again, I'd have had a whole lot of explaining to do to Monica and Chandler when they walked in from getting the groceries." She moaned in a feeble protest, but ultimately knew he was right, and was content to just sit there with him for a few more moments.   
  
"Come on, let's go take a shower," she suggested, "I feel so salty and gross." He helped her down from the counter and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder.  
  
"Mmm, salty...but definitely not gross." With that, he teasingly pushed her ahead of him and slapped her butt before chasing her up the stairs to the shower.   
  
(End of Chapter 2. Hope you guys are liking it so far. The first night's date will come in the next chapter, which should be up pretty soon, since I have a lot of time between the end of school and going to visit the family for Christmas. By the way, the line of the song in the summary is from "Sherry Darling" by Springsteen, which was partly the inspiration for this song. Enjoy and review.) 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and, baby, you got me."  
  
Rating: R  
  
(Notice: This section is rated R. Like any other R-rated chapter that I've ever written, it is neither distasteful nor gratuitous. This is mild, mild stuff. It actually only really pertains to one scene. I'm just warning.)  
  
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Monica and Chandler returned with the groceries, and by 7 o'clock that night, everyone had eaten and showered. Phoebe had been trying for hours to beat Joey's top score on Pacman (to no avail), and Joey had been entertaining himself by building a sandcastle in front of the house, down by the beach. Ross and Chandler were barbequing out on the back deck, where Rachel and Monica were enjoying the hot tub. The sun was a big, orange and red ball of fire as it plummeted into the waterline in the distance, and the air was cool with a soft wind.   
  
"I have an idea," Monica suggested after an extended period of complete silence, "let's play a game!"  
  
"What kind of game?" Rachel asked, somewhat detachedly.   
  
"I don't know, some sort of question game. Like, Chandler and me verses you and Ross." Rachel threw her a questioning glance.  
  
"I don't know, Mon. You know how these things usually turn out."   
  
"No, I'll be good, I swear! Come on, it'll be fun!"   
  
"Who's going to ask the questions?" Chandler piped in from where he and Ross had been holding a separate conversation, over at the grill.   
  
"I don't know..." Monica mused, "How about this? One team can ask the other a question, and visa versa, and whoever has the most creative answer wins that point!" Monica's enthusiasm and excitement were not shared by the others, but they reluctantly agreed.   
  
"Okay, I'll start," she offered. "Ross, when did you first imagine Rachel in a sexual situation, and what was it?" After being answered by only a vaguely disgusted blank stare, and upon realizing that this was her brother she was talking to, she quickly changed her mind.   
  
"Okay, Rachel, we're just going to move that question right on over to you."   
  
"Good call," Ross assured.   
  
"Well, let's see..." she mused, resting her head back against the tub and trying intently to remember. "I guess it would have to be right after I found out he was in love with me- when he was in China- and I guess it was just that he would knock on my bedroom door, take me in his arms, kiss me, and take me right there."   
  
"Woohoo! Yow!" Monica teased, getting into the game. Rachel giggled and threw a provocative sideways glance at Ross, who's face was somewhere between bashful and aroused. Chandler flipped another rib on the grill, knowing that it was his turn.   
  
"Alright, let's see. Mine was when I first moved in with Joey and Monica brought over these cookies as a housewarming gift. I remember thinking how maybe someday she would..." His voice trailed off and his face dropped, as if he were just realizing what he was about to say. "...have sex with Joey and, you know, maybe he'd tell me about it."  
  
"What?!" Monica exclaimed. "That was the first sexual encounter you imagined me in?! With JOEY?!" Chandler threw the tongs down on the grill suddenly.   
  
"Oh, COME ON, you are a LOT hotter than me! I was being realistic!" He put his hands on his hips, defensively, until Ross put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.   
  
"Okay, okay, let's just move on to the next question," Ross suggested. "Monica, who was the first guy you fell in love with?"   
  
"Oh, that's a hard one! Well, actually, I guess it was Richard." Chandler rolled his eyes, still a little touchy from the last question, and continued flipping the food with his spatula. Rachel tossed the question to Ross.   
  
"Oh, I don't know! You answer this one, Ross, it's too hard. I can't really remember that far back." He got serious all of a sudden, taking the spatula from Chandler and pointing his attention to the grill.   
  
"Um, yeah, I don't really remember either. Mon, you guys get this point." Monica made a "score" face and smiled at Chandler, who was actually less into the game than anyone else.   
  
"The ribs are done. Call Joey up from the beach, and I'll put them all on plates. We'll be ready to eat in a few minutes." With that, Ross disappeared through the screen glass door and busied himself in the kitchen.   
  
"What's with him?" Monica asked, a little befuddled at his sudden seriousness. Chandler made a face and headed for the kitchen as well.  
  
"I don't know, maybe HIS first love was Richard, too."   
  
Monica and Rachel passed each other annoyed glances and breathed an exasperated, simultaneous "Men!" before drying off and heading inside for dinner.   
  
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Dinner ended a little past 8:00 pm, and everyone dispersed in their various directions. Joey and Phoebe helped Ross clean the kitchen, Chandler and Monica, after resolving their tiny argument, disappeared downstairs to watch television, and Rachel headed upstairs to get ready for her secret evening plans. While washing the dishes, Joey questioned Ross about his obviously intentional silence.   
  
"You okay, man? You seemed kind of down during dinner." Ross shrugged his shoulders.   
  
"I don't know. It's nothing, really. I mean, it's something...don't worry about it. It's stupid."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing. Do you know where Rachel went?"   
  
"Uh, I think she's upstairs, but don't go up there!" Ross furrowed his brow, inquisitively.   
  
"What? Why not?"   
  
"Um, uh, I think she's coming down with something! Yeah, that's it! She told me she didn't feel well, and, uh, you don't want to catch whatever it is that she has!"   
  
"Really? She didn't tell me about not feeling well. I'm going to go check on her." As Ross moved to head upstairs, Joey threw himself in front them as a physical barrier.   
  
"Wha, wha, why would you want to do that? I mean, you never know! She might have, like, that flu that's been going around! Or worse yet, the Ebola Virus! MAN, you don't want to get mixed up in that!"   
  
"Joey, what's the matter with you?" Ross pushed him to the side and made his way up the spiral staircase, turning to the right at the top to enter his and Rachel's bedroom.   
  
The bedroom was the most beautifully decorated in the house. It was huge, with a protruding window seat along the wall opposite the door and a king canopy bed directly to his right. The furniture was all a mixture of antique and mahogany, and the drapery and bed sheets were ocean blues, silvers, and faded greens. The master bathroom was off the far right wall, and though the door was closed, Ross could see that the light was on and that there was movement on the other side.   
  
"Rachel?" he called out. When she didn't answer, he walked over to the door and knocked on it.   
  
"Rach? You in there?" He was answered by a small, hesitant voice.   
  
"Ross?" As if it would be someone else.   
  
"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay? Joey mentioned something about you not feeling well."  
  
"No, uh, I'm fine! Don't worry! I'm just, um..." When she couldn't finish her sentence, Ross began to get curious.   
  
"Rach? Is something going on?" He tried the handle, but it was locked.   
  
"No, nothing's wrong!"  
  
"Why is the door locked?" His confusion was turning into a slight trepidation.   
  
"I, um, uh..."  
  
"Rachel, open the door." His mind was racing. He had absolutely no idea what would be going on inside that bathroom, but something about the situation just did not sit right with him.   
  
"Ross, it's nothing, just go away for a minute." This request caught him off guard, and only fueled his growing anxiousness.   
  
"What? No, I won't go away until you open this door!" Just as he clenched his fist to pull on the handle again, the door opened. What he saw standing before him left him speechless.   
  
It was Rachel, clad in the sexiest piece of lingerie he'd ever seen. It was entirely black lace and sheer, and it hugged her so tightly and covered her so sparsely that it did not take much of an imagination to tell what was underneath. It consisted of a pair of little-boy-style underwear that started low on her hips, and a small tank-top that stopped just above her navel. Her hair was thrown messily up in a bun that was coming undone around her face, and the illumination of the bathroom light behind her made her skin look even darker and smoother than usual.   
  
He scanned her body with his eyes, taking in every inch of her. From the smooth slope of her shoulders, to the flat plane of her stomach, past the gentle curve of her hips and down to the trim length of her legs, his eyes and his mind raced to absorb it all. He was standing just in arm's reach of her, and could not resist extending a hand to brush his fingertips along her hip, just above the waistline of her underwear. Almost as if induced by some electric volt, images of all his "firsts" with Rachel flooded his thoughts.   
  
That first kissed- doused in the rain and rushed by the racing fear and uncertainty of their hearts. The first date- nervously reaching for her trembling hand in the movie theatre and awkwardly stumbling over just the right words. Their first time- swaddled beneath the warm bear-skin blanket, encircled in her arms and intoxicated by her sweet breath. The first "I love you"- the initial and fleeting fear that accompanied the certainty of an intense future together, quickly followed by a needy passion that was only the catalyst for feelings which they had always possessed. The first time he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was the single most beautiful woman who had ever walked the face of the planet- that very moment.  
  
"You look..." He let out a soft breath of air that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh, unable to finish the sentence. No such word existed to describe just how she looked. Her eyes darkened and she cast him a half-smile of encouragement. He tried again, still holding his breath.   
  
"You look..." He let out the breath that he had been holding, surrendering to the fact that he would never be able to convey, with words, what he saw. Instead, he took her hand and brought it to his lips.   
  
"What's this for?" he asked, now holding her hand in both of his against his chest. She stepped in closer to him, shifting her body forward and kissing the outside of his neck.   
  
"You."   
  
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The sky was a star-studded blanket that cast a pitch shadow over the Earth for as far as either of them could see, and the usually magnitude of the ocean was nothing more than the sound of a rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. The only lights that existed for them were the ones belonging to the houses that lined the beach for miles in either direction, serving as floating lanterns against the night. Their blanket was warm and cushioned by the underlying sand, while the wind ruffled their hair and danced across their skin. They laid on their sides, facing one another, each propping their heads up on bent elbows.   
  
"I love the ocean." Rachel mussed, starring out in it's general direction, though the intense obscurity of the night made it impossible to actually see. He brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek.  
  
"Why's that?" he asked in a low voice that was highlighted by a genuine curiosity. He watched as she pondered his question- really took in the importance and grandeur of it. It was several minutes before she answered.   
  
"When I was a little girl, I got everything I wanted. I always sort of felt like the whole world was mine to own..." Her gaze never wavered from it's fixed position, somewhere out into the vague abyss.   
  
"...but then...then, we'd come to this beach house. I would sit out here on the beach at night, just like this...and I would get this feeling of utter misplacement. I mean, in those moments, I really understood just how big the world was. It grounded me...it made me feel like I wasn't the one in the spotlight all the damn time. It took some of the attention off of me, you know? It might sound weird...but it made me feel invisible."   
  
"Rachel..." For the first time since they'd been out there, she turned her stare away from the ocean and looked at him. He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, and waited until he was sure she was really paying attention.   
  
"Sorry to disappoint you...but you could never be invisible to anyone with eyes." She smiled, closing her eyes and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was their first since they'd been out on the beach, and a kiss on sand always felt different than a kiss anywhere else. It felt more freeing- like if you did it for long enough, you would just float up into the sky.   
  
"And you could never disappoint me."   
  
"Touche." This arose a giggle from her, which excited him beyond anything he could ever explain. He had no idea why it had such an affect one him- maybe it was just the sheer Rachelness of her laugh that made his heart skip a beat. Whatever it was, he wished she'd do it for eternity.   
  
She was still wearing that irresistible outfit from before, and he suddenly felt very overdressed upon looking at her. She was practically naked. Sensing his discomfort, she scooted closer to him to press her body against his. She rubbed one hand over his back and used the other to brush a thumb against his lips.   
  
"What're you thinking?" He almost laughed at the impossibility of answering that question. If only she knew. He opted for the simplest answer, and perhaps the most applicable one.   
  
"You...always."   
  
With that, she rolled over on top of him, kissing him with a rushed, fiery intensity that he had not known since that very first kiss. She pulled his sweater up over his head, undressing him as quickly as possible. This was not about tact nor subtlety, and they both knew it. This was about reassuring each other that what they had found 4 years ago had not faded with time. This was about reaffirming a kiss- a moment- that had taken place just inside a coffee shop one fateful night so long ago, and that had changed both of them irrevocably.   
  
He let his hands roam wildly over her body, tangling through her hair and then swooping down to cup her ass. Before either of them knew it, they were completely naked and he was inside her, and it was like every first time put together. She leaned down from her place on top of him and cupped his face in her hands as she kissed him. Everywhere their skin touched was like ice and fire all at once, and it sent electrifying chills over both of them.   
  
When it was over, she collapsed on top of him. They laid like that for moments on end, neither of them saying and word. Finally, when she rolled to his side and settled for draping a leg over him and laying her head against his chest, Rachel remembered something from that afternoon.   
  
"Sweety..." she began, somewhat groggily, "what was wrong this afternoon? You were so quiet during dinner." He stroked her hair and arm instinctively, taking a moment to recall exactly what HAD been wrong.   
  
"Oh, um, it was nothing. Don't worry about it." At this, she propped her head up on an elbow and looked down at him.   
  
"Come on, tell me what was wrong. Was it something I said?"   
  
"No, no, no, it wasn't you. I just, um, I was just remembering something. I guess it made me kind of, uh, sad." She furrowed her brow, inviting him to finish his thought. He took the initiative.   
  
"I know it's stupid, but...I just...I guess I'm just going to have to deal with the fact that you were my first love and I wasn't yours." Her face softened with a sudden compassion and understanding. She reached her hand out to run the back of her fingers over his cheek.  
  
"That's not stupid...and you aren't going to have to 'deal with that'."  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"You were." He didn't understand.  
  
"I was what?" She smiled at his obvious confusion.   
  
"My first love. The reason I couldn't remember earlier was because I was going through all the guys I'd slept with before you, or all the guys I'd dated, or all the guys I'd had crushed on. I didn't LOVE any of them, though, honey. So you see, you WERE my first." With this revelation, his confusion turned to blissful pride.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really."   
  
"So many firsts..." he mused.   
  
(End Chapter 3. There's more to come, so keep the reviews coming, too!) 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and, baby, you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Note: I'm using a pot line very similar to that used at the end of Season 6 to get Monica to propose to Chandler. I am aware that that story and mine are strikingly similar, so you don't have to tell me :-) It's just that I realized my story needed SOME sort of conflict, and that situation seemed appropriate as any, so here we all are! My version is admittedly less climactic, but it will have to suffice. I hope you still enjoy it!  
  
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"She has fancy clothes and diamond rings   
  
She has men who'll give her anything she wants   
  
but they don't see   
  
That what she wants is me   
  
Oh and I want her so  
  
I'll never let her go   
  
She knows that I'd give all that I got to give  
  
All that I want   
  
All that I live   
  
to make Candy mine   
  
Tonight"  
  
The alarm clock crooned with the rejuvenated, raspy lyrics of Bruce Springsteen's "Candy's Room", causing the sleeping lovers to stir in their feathery cocoon. Rachel lifted her head heavily from sleep and confusion, and stared with contempt at the flashing red 7:00 am. Ross must have set it out of habit. Frustrated and tired, she let her head fall back to his chest, lightly slapping his bicep as a signal to shut the irritating electronic intruder off.   
  
After flinging a haphazard hand to the end table and nearly knocking the whole damn clock off, he wrapped both arms around her and playfully flipped them over so that his head was then resting on her chest. He kissed her collarbone and allowed his eyes to flutter shut again. A smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she ran her hands over his smooth back. A soft moan escaped her just before she grabbed the comforter and threw it up over their heads, enveloping them in a secret down refuge. At this, Ross scooted up her body and laid his head just beside hers on the pillow, grinning widely and goofily.   
  
"Mmm, let's just stay here today. What do you say?" He punctuated his offer by placing soft butterfly kisses just below her ear.   
  
"I think they would notice if we never came out of our room."   
  
"If you find the cardboard and Sharpie, I'll make the 'Gone Fishing' sign," he joked. He was tempting her yet some more, having looped his finger underneath the waistband of her underwear (her sole garment) and begun tracing small circles over her skin there. She giggled and kissed his nose. He loved it when she did that.   
  
"Okay, okay, another hour. I bet Monica's already up- you know how she can't sleep past 6:30."  
  
"Just try growing up with that. You couldn't get me out of bed with a hand grenade. Meanwhile, she's downstairs making pancakes at the crack of dawn." This anecdote brought memories of their high school experiences flooding back to Rachel. One particular instance plagued Rachel the most.   
  
"Hey Ross," she inquired.   
  
"Hmm?" He was laying with his head on her chest again, and she could tell that he was well on his way back to sleep.   
  
"Remember when you were going to take me to the prom?" This got his attention. He didn't move his head, but she could feel his eyelashes flutter open against her skin, and he cleared his throat in that nervous way that she knew so well.   
  
"Yeah...What about it?" She glanced down at the top of his head, his messy hair tickling her nose. She smiled, not really knowing why she had brought it up. It comforter her in a strange way to have some acknowledgement that he had always truly loved her...and so unconditionally.   
  
"Nothing, I don't know. Just...that was very sweet." He smiled- she could feel it. His lips brushed lightly against her skin. It was not quite a kiss, but very intentional.   
  
"Don't mention it." He perked his head up and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before plopping his head back down once more. "Now, how about you quit your yapping so we can get another hour of shut-eye before the big day." She tangled her fingers through his, where they lay limp against her thigh, and shut her eyes.   
  
Big day, indeed.   
  
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At around noon, everyone was eating a late breakfast out on the back porch. Joey had not emerged from his room until moments before, and Monica had just gotten back and showered from her morning run on the beach. The table was set with fruit, cereal and bagels, since Monica's absence had left Ross and Chandler in charge of making the food. The air was rich with the smell of the salty ocean and dozens of people had already set up camp for the day out on the sandy beach below them. Kites were flying, children were laughing, and the dying notes of some nondescript beach music could be faintly heard in the distance. It was a truly magnificent day.   
  
"What do you say we go shopping today?" Monica offered, finishing her bowl of fruit.   
  
"Hey, that rhymed!" chimed Phoebe, smiling at her insightfulness.   
  
"That's be great! There are so many cute little beach shops out on the promenade!" Rachel declared, excitedly. Not surprisingly, none of the guys had expressed much of an interest. After a few reluctant, barely-agreements, everyone got ready for a day of touristy shopping on the boardwalk.   
  
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The boardwalk had been more crowded than initially expected. It's quaint storefronts were crowded with the rushed tourists and gangs of local surfer teens. Something between elevator music and beach music played over the speakers, and the sun glared intensely down on the gang of 6, who made their way unnoticed through the thick crowd.   
  
"You know, it really is a shame when these beach shops just roll over and die from lack of business," Chandler offered, sarcastically.   
  
"I don't know about you guys, but I could go for some ice cream right about now. This sun's getting to me. I'm starting to see colleges!" Joey whined.   
  
"Don't you mean collages?" Chandler corrected.   
  
"That's what I said! Are we getting ice cream or not?"   
  
They made their way into a small, Mom & Pop style ice cream shop. The girls waited in line with everyone's order while the guys reserved a small booth near the back of the shop. Once alone, Chandler and Joey began questioning Ross.   
  
"So, how's the anniversary going so far?" Chandler asked.  
  
"It's good, and you know what else? I'm really glad you guys all decided to come with us! At first, you know, I was afraid that we might not get to do any of the anniversary type stuff that I was looking forward to, but it's been even better than I'd expected!" Chandler perked up, intrigued by the revelation.   
  
"Really? So, what type of 'stuff' are we talking about here?"   
  
"Well, like last night, Rachel dressed up in this black nighty thing and set this whole, like, stargazing thing up on the beach! It was really great. We just sat out there talking the whole night."  
  
"What?" Joey asked, deadpan. "No sex?"  
  
"No, no, there was sex. It's just that, with Rachel, that's not the most important thing, you know? Like, she really opened up about her childhood at one point. She's so great just to talk to, and..."  
  
"Okay, okay, yeah...but back to the sex. Now, what was that like?" Joey flashed an interested grin, which earned him nothing but irritated looks from both Ross and Chandler. At that point, their guy talk was silenced by Phoebe's sudden emergence at the table.   
  
"Oh, hey, Joey, what did you want again? Pistachio?" Joey nodded and smiled. Once Phoebe had returned to her place in line, the guys proceeded with their chat.   
  
"So what do you have planned for tonight?" Chandler asked.   
  
"Actually, um, that's something I've been meaning to talk to you guys about. I wanted to run an idea by you..."   
  
"Wait, Ross, this isn't what I think it is, is it?" Joey's face perked up.   
  
"That depends, Joey. What do you think it is?"  
  
"You're not going to ask her to marry you, are you?" Chandler turned his attention to Ross as well, somewhat surprised that Joey had actually made the connection.   
  
"Well...yeah. I'd been planning on it for some time now, and I mean, what could be better? We're at the beach, it's out 4-year anniversary...perfect timing, right?"   
  
"That's great, man! Have you thought about how you're going to do it?"   
  
"Yeah, I thought about maybe asking her to take a walk with me down to the peer. Then, when we get there, I would have this whole candlelit picnic set up. After we ate, uh, that's when I thought I'd pop the question."   
  
"Wow, that sounds great! Have you thought have how you're going to hide it, though?" Joey asked.   
  
"Hide it? What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, I mean, Rachel's pretty smart. Don't you think she'll catch on if you ask her to take a walk down to this candlelit picnic on the beach on your 4-year-anniversary?"  
  
"I guess I hadn't thought about that."   
  
"Yeah, well start thinking, man. Joey's got a point. You're going to have to find a way to subtly convince her that marriage is the further thing from your mind." Just then, the girls returned to the table with 6 cones of ice cream.   
  
"What were you guys talking about?" Rachel asked, handing Ross' cone to him across the table. Ross answered nervously.   
  
"Uh, nothing. We were just talking about, um..."   
  
"Chandler's fear of commitment!" Chandler flashed Joey a glare, relieved that the comment had been casual enough as to only lured a smile from Monica.   
  
"You guys want to walk while we eat? There's this really nice jewelry store that we passed back there and I wanted to check it out." Rachel offered. Ross' eyes widened and he shot Chandler and sideways glance.   
  
"Jewelry? Uh, do you really need any more jewelry?" This earned him a blank stare.   
  
"Yeah," Chandler piped in. "You know, you guys really wear too much jewelry as it is! I say, play it natural from now on! No more jewelry!"   
  
"What's gotten into you guys? You're acting more 'deer in the headlights' than normal." Monica detected.   
  
"Uh, nothing! Forget we mentioned anything! Let's go check out that jewelry!" Chandler faked a forced enthusiasm.   
  
*********************************************************************************  
  
Once back at the house, everyone retired to their separate quarters for the afternoon. Alone in their room, Rachel questioned Ross about the guys' unusual behavior in the ice cream shop.   
  
"Hey honey, what was wrong with you and Chandler today? You both seemed really nervous about something." He had hoped that she hadn't noticed.   
  
"Oh, you know, it was nothing. We were just being weird, I guess." He tried to shake it off, but she wasn't buying it.   
  
"No, no, tell me what it was. There was definitely something up." Seizing the opportunity, he decided to go in for the kill.   
  
"I guess it was just that old fear of commitment rearing it's ugly head! You know, Chandler and I have sort of been sweating it out for the past few months. I was afraid that being up here for our anniversary was going to put some crazy ideas about marriage in your head!" Suddenly regretting his words, he tried to play them off with a joking grin, but even the boyish smile was not enough to soften the blow of his harshness. He could already see the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Great.   
  
"Oh, I see." Dammit, he had really done it now. He began back-peddling ferociously.   
  
"No, no, that's not exactly what I meant. I didn't mean that I didn't WANT to marry you, just that, you know-" She cut him off.   
  
"No, I get it, Ross. I'm reading you loud and clear! What, just because we've been dating for 4 years, you think I might actually consider getting married? I mean, how CRAZY must I have to be to ever think something like that?!" She was losing it- her composure, her sanity. You name it, and it was unraveling inside her faster than the human eye could detect.   
  
"Rachel, no, I didn't mean that! Of course I've thought about marry you, it's just that-" She cut him off again. She never let him finish a sentence when she was really riled up. Not that he deserved to.   
  
"It's just that what? What is it, Ross? Four years not long enough to know that the relationship's going somewhere? Or maybe you think I'm going to turn out to be a lesbian like Carol!" That was a low blow. He deserved it, though. He deserved all of it.   
  
"You know what, maybe this was a mistake! Maybe we shouldn't have come here. I knew this weekend was going too well to be true! Maybe we should just pack up our stuff and..." He grabbed her arm.  
  
"No! Rachel, dammit, please listen to me! I didn't mean that! I didn't mean any of it!" The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, but at least she had stopped yelling and was actually listening to him.   
  
"Then what DID you mean, Ross?"   
  
"Look, I don't know what I was thinking. I was talking to Chandler and Joey and we got this crazy idea that if I didn't tell you those things then you might figure out what I really had planned. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I guess I just ended up screwing it up even worse this way...figures." Feeling like an idiot, Ross sat down on the end of the bed, folding his hands in his lap and hanging his head. Rachel sat down calmly beside him.   
  
"What are you talking about?" He looked up to meet her gaze. Thought perhaps dramatically inappropriate for the situation, he smiled. Though perhaps even more inappropriate, she smiled back.   
  
"Well, this wasn't how I had planned it, but..." Sensing for the first time what he was really about to say, Rachel's face lit up. He hesitated in continuing, so she grabbed his hand and squeezed it in reassurance. Keeping her hand held tightly in his, he knelt down on one knee at the foot of the bed. He paused for a moment, deliberating upon with just the perfect words, only to realize that they did not exist.   
  
"Rachel, I'm not going to try and come up with something to say in this moment that'll knock you off your feet. There is no combination of just the perfect words that I could ever speak to you to make you understand just how badly I want to be with you for the rest of my life. There's no mirror for me to hold up that will ever let you see yourself the way I see you- so beautifully flawed yet perfect, all at once. All I know is that I'm not going to mess this up. For maybe the first time in my life, I'm just going to do what feels right. Rachel Karen Green..."   
  
Her heart stopped.   
  
"Will you marry me?" 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
(Note: In this world, the whole Mark situation DID happen. The only difference between the real version and my version is that, when Ross called Rachel back that night, Mark was NOT there and Ross did NOT sleep with Chloe. They did work things out.)  
  
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When you are a little girl, you dream about the future. More specifically, you dream about the perfect future. You dream about the perfect life, in the perfect house, with the prefect husband. You map out every minute detail- from how he's going to look, to how you're going to meet him, to how he's going to propose. When you are a little girl, you dream of romantic promises made upon cliffs at dusk on nondescript beaches. You dream of hushed whispers made upon checkered blankets in generically beautiful grassy parks.   
  
When you are a woman, however, and you are standing face-to-face with the key to all of those things, you realize just how much better the most awkward of realities can be than the most idealistic of fantasies. And in that moment, Rachel realized something else, as well.   
  
She no longer wanted that storybook romance. Ross had never been her knight in shining armor, and their relationship had always seemingly fallen short. In looking back over their years together, they might even have appeared to an outsider as incompatible and dysfunctional. They'd fought, and they'd cried, and they'd hurt. But in that moment, for that split second when time stood still for Rachel, she knew that those were the things that bound them together, in the end.   
  
Their love, she considered, was not something pretty to be sat up on a shelf and admired. Their love was not an emotion, but rather an act. It was something that they did every day. It was something they'd been doing, though subconsciously at times, for nearly 4 years. It had been fought for. It had been earned. That was the type of love she wanted to carry her into the next chapter of her life, and she knew that she would never have it with anyone else but him.   
  
So, in an obscure haze of tearful whispers and blissful kisses, she bound herself eternally to the only man she'd ever loved enough to fight for.   
  
*******************************************************************************  
  
"She's got a way about her   
  
I don't know what it is   
  
But I know that I can't live without her   
  
She's got a way of pleasing   
  
I don't know why it is   
  
But there doesn't have to be a reason anyway"  
  
They had not moved in almost 3 hours. Ever since Rachel's feeble yet firm acceptance at around 4 pm, they'd just laid together on the queen sized bed, listening to music and talking. Neither attempted to make it anything more. No clothes had been discarded, nothing more than sweet kisses had been exchanged. Around 6, laughing and rustling had been heard below them in the kitchen. They did not even acknowledge that their friends were having dinner without them, nor did they move to go tell them the good news.   
  
"She's got a smile that heals me   
  
I don't know what it is   
  
But I have to laugh when she reveals me   
  
She's got a way of talking   
  
I don't know why it is   
  
But it lifts me up when we are walking anywhere"  
  
Currently, Billy Joel's "She's Got A Way" was playing on some unknown Montauk radio station. At one point, Ross began to subconsciously hum along, earning him a wide smile from Rachel and a playful slap on the arm. This encouraged him more than anything else, and he even began to sing the words softly in her ear. She didn't care that they weren't completely on key. She just wrapped her arms more tightly around his back and buried her face more snuggly into his chest.   
  
"Ross, when you were in high school, who did you imagine when you were making out with girls?" This caused him to look down at her.   
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh, come on, everyone does that from time to time. There's always that one celebrity or whoever that you think about when you're really fooling around with someone else. Who was it for you?" He was still not following.   
  
"Why are you asking me this?" She looked back up at him, smiling to assure him that she had no ulterior motive.   
  
"I don't know- just curious, I guess." He just stared at her for a moment, but then finally cracked a small smile and answered.   
  
"Well, uh, I guess it was you." She furrowed her brow and offered a mixed look of both disbelief and flattery.   
  
"Really?"  
  
"Well, yeah. The whole point behind that 'picturing someone else' thing is that the person who you're picturing is unattainable, and the closest you think you'll ever get to hooking up with them is in your dreams. So...for me, it was you." She looked genuinely touched, and reached up to kiss him softly on the lips.   
  
"You know, I was stupid in high school, Ross. Well, really, EVERYONE'S stupid in high school, but you know what I mean." He nodded.   
  
"Yeah, I do. It's okay, though. You don't have to feel like you owe me an explanation. The important thing is that we're together now. Nothing that's ever happened in the past could upset me as of..." After glancing down at his watch, he continued, "...about 3 hours ago." He smiled and kissed her nose. Just then, there was a knock at the door. This snapped them out of their dream-like state, causing Ross to sit up suddenly on the bed, almost as if he'd been an adolescent who'd just been caught feeling up some girl in his bedroom.   
  
"Yeah?" he called out. He was greeted by his sister's familiar voice. She remained on the other side of the day, but raised her voice a bit as to be heard clearly.   
  
"It's just me. The rest of us are going to take a walk out on the beach. You guys want to come?" Ross glanced over at Rachel to get her opinion. When she nodded in agreement, he assured that they'd be down in a few minutes. After he was sure that she'd left, he got up from the bed and went to put this shoes on.   
  
"So, should we tell me tonight?" she asked, pulling her shirt up over her head and changing into a casual black tank-top.   
  
"Yeah, during the walk." He couldn't help but gawk at her as she changed. Even though he'd seen her naked a countless number of times, it was her casualty about undressing in front of him that appealed to him so much. It was just so sexy, the way she didn't even think of his presence as being a factor anymore. It was comfortable yet intriguing, all at once. He waited for her to change into a pair of army green Capri pants before following her downstairs.   
  
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The night was only slightly chillier than the previous one had been, but the mind-blowing sunset that was occurring as the sextet stepped out onto the sandy beach made up for that. The sky was a canvas sprayed with every conceivable shade of yellow, red and orange, and the sun was one big fireball as it sank slowly into the sea.   
  
The six made their way down the beach towards the tall piers that stood at least a good mile away. The wind was blowing, but only slightly. Still, it ruffled their hair and led Ross to pull his black sweater from over his head and give it to Rachel to wear. She accepted, though it swallowed her and hung loosely around her small frame.   
  
"Hey, do you guys ever think about how different things have become over the past 4 years?" Phoebe asked after several moments of undisturbed silence.   
  
"What do you mean?" Joey inquired.   
  
"Well, I mean, just look at us! Four years ago, we were all just, you know, 6 single, more-or-less unemployed people looking for something to do with our lives. Now, Chandler and Monica are together, Joey's a successful soap opera actor, Ross is working at the museum, Rachel's an assistant buyer at Bloomingdale's, and Ross and Rachel are practically married." At this, Rachel through a secret smile at Ross, who decided to speak up.  
  
"Actually, um, that's something we wanted to talk to you guys about." Everyone knew what was coming. They all stopped walking and turned to face Ross. Monica put her hands over her mouth in attempts at stifling her oncoming sobs.   
  
"Well, this afternoon, while you guys were all out doing your various things, Rachel and I sort of decided something." Everyone was all smiles. Chandler encouraged him.   
  
"And?"  
  
"And...well, as you all obviously know, we've been together for a long time now. We've sort of casually discussed a future together in the past, but never really had the foresight or the courage to..."  
  
"Out with it, man!" Joey yelled. Rachel finished the thought for him.   
  
"We're engaged!" She held up her hand to display the ring for everyone to see. Immediately, the other two girls ran to her side and joined her in a frenzy of giggles and jumping. The guys congregated off to the side, patting Ross on the back and exchanging words of congratulations.   
  
"Good work, man. Was it everything you wanted it to be?" Chandler asked.   
  
"Actually...no. But it doesn't matter. I don't care. It was really simply, but it was perfect. It was just me asking her to be with me for the rest of our lives, and it was her saying yes. That's all I've ever REALLY wanted." They exchanged a few more high fives before regrouping and continuing on their walk.   
  
Ross and Rachel laced fingers and were now walking barefoot at the water's edge with their shoes in their free hands. The others pulled away slightly, knowingly allowing them some personal time together. Ross playfully pushed against her with his shoulder, causing her to nearly lose her balance and fall into the water. He, of course, wrapped his arm around her waist at the last moment to catch her, though. This produced just what he had been hoping for- one of her patented giggles.  
  
"You know," he offered, tightening his grip around her waist, "I don't know if I could ever get enough of you."  
  
"Aw, come on, that's not true. I'm sure there have been plenty of times in the past when you've wanted to get rid of me. Actually, I'm remembering a few times when I'm surprised you didn't try to hire someone to knock me off."  
  
"...that you know of," he teased. Then, his tone got suddenly serious. "But it doesn't matter how frustrated I may get, I've never stayed mad at you for more than a few hours. As soon as I start remembering your smile, or the way you laugh, or the way you walk, or the way you touch my leg and don't even realize it when you're talking to me...I stop being mad, and start wanting to be with you again." Something that Rachel had always noticed and had found so endearing about Ross was that, no matter how eloquent or educated he may be in his everyday life, he always had a way of putting things so simply when it came to them. He continued.   
  
"Like that night when we broke up...I wanted to hate you, Rach. I went to that bar with Chandler and Joey, and when I was explaining what happened, I was so mad at you that I wanted to scream." He looked down at her. Her face was hard to read, but she remained quiet so that he could continue.   
  
"I really wanted to hurt you, I think for the first time ever. Not physically, but I just wanted to do something that would make you feel the same thing I was feeling. I don't think I'd ever felt that bad in my entire life. It was kind of like the feeling I got when I saw you kissing Paulo, only deeper and more painful." He brushed his fingers back and forth over the soft skin at her waist to reassure her that he was not saying these things to hurt her, but only to lead to his point.   
  
"But then I called you. I called you, and I heard your voice, and I forgot about everything, Rachel. I forgot about that pain in the pit of my stomach. I forgot about the way you looked at me- so helpless and tired- when you told me you wanted to 'take a break'. I forgot about wanting to hurt you, and I just imagined you on the other end of the phone, smiling and telling me you were sorry. That's really all it takes from you, Rach. Just one, quick apology, and I'm putty in your hands."  
  
She was crying, now, which he had actually not expected. She cried a lot, but not usually over things like these. He immediately felt guilty, but her expression told him not to. He wiped her cheeks with his thumb and apologized.   
  
"No, no, it's not your fault. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's just everything that's happened today- first the proposal, now you telling me all of this. It doesn't feel real. I don't know if I deserve all of these things."  
  
"Rachel, you deserve everything you want. That's why I want to marry you- because I want to be the person who gives it to you." She smiled simply at him. After all, that's all it took.   
  
"That's the best reason I can think of."  
  
End Chapter. 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Note: Now that the story will be taking place back in New York, the title may seemingly no longer apply. I suggest that everyone use their less literal mind, though, and look for the metaphorical meaning, now. :-)  
  
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The next day, everyone packed up their suitcases and said goodbye to the beautiful palace of a beach house that they'd called home for the past 3 days. After lunch, they piled into the car and made the trip back to Manhattan. Arriving just a little before sunset, they silently understood that they'd probably had enough of one another for one weekend, so they all retired to their separate quarters.   
  
Ross and Rachel arrived back at their apartment and began the long and tedious process of unpacking. More accurately, Rachel began to unpack while Ross merely removed a few items from the bags, got sidetracked, and ended up leaving Rachel to actually put everything in it's place while he watched television or made dinner. The apartment was one big muddle of dirty clothes, half-packed suitcases, and random miscellaneous items that had undoubtedly never really fit in anywhere. Rachel was currently folding a basket of clean clothes while Ross sat on the couch in front of her watching some documentary on the discovery channel. He muted it and turned sideways on the couch to he could see her.   
  
"So, is this what married life's going to be like for us, Rach?" he asked, not even attempting to conceal the huge smile on his face. She cocked an annoyed yet playful eyebrow at him, not pausing her folding.   
  
"If we're lucky. Maybe we'll even make it into the Guinness Book." He looked confused.   
  
"Huh?" She didn't miss a beat or even stop look up.   
  
"Shortest recorded marriage." He chuckled and threw both around her middle, pulling her over the top of the couch and into his arms. This solicited a giggly squeal, but hardly a protest. Instead, she allowed him this opportunity to bask in the newly discovered level of their relationship.   
  
Sitting with his back against the couch's arm, he held her between his legs, her back to his chest. They sat in silence for a moment, feeling and hearing nothing but the pounding of each other's hearts. He slid his hands down the lengths of her arms, stopping at her hands to study her ring-finger. He whispered softy against her ear.   
  
"Do you like it?" She smiled, touched and amused that he would even ask that. She loved how unpredictable their time together was. They could go from laughing and squealing to the most intimate of moments in nanoseconds. A first "I love you" came to mind.   
  
"Of course I do. It's from you."   
  
*********************************************************************************  
  
The next weekend, the girls congregated in Monica and Chandler's apartment all day, beginning preparations for the wedding. Ross had agreed to let Rachel (and subsequently, Monica and Phoebe) have total control over the ceremony and reception. In his words "I've already done that whole thing once. It's your turn". Plus, deep down, he knew how much it meant to her. He didn't want to take that away, especially when he didn't really care either way.   
  
Rachel pushed an arrant strand of hair back behind her ear that had fallen down from her loose bun, slightly exasperatedly. They'd been going through bridal magazines for early 3 hours, and she hadn't found even one that she'd liked.   
  
"Ugh, why is this so hard? What, did all the good designers like wait for me to announce my engagement before discontinuing their wedding dress lines?" Monica grabbed the book that Rachel had just slammed down on the kitchen table.  
  
"Look, Rach, it's not that bad."  
  
"Oh, that's easy for you to say! You're not the one who's going to have to get married in a halter top and Capri pants just to stay in style with the season!"   
  
"You know, if you went with my suggestion, you wouldn't be having this problem," Phoebe chimed in. Rachel replied with one of her patented 'over the top hand gesticulation' comebacks.   
  
"Oh, will you stop it with the naked wedding? I already walked down the aisle once with my ass hanging out, I'm not going to do it again!"   
  
"Hey, did you see this one?" Monica slid the catalog across the table to Rachel, pointing to a picture in the bottom right corner. Immediately, Rachel's mouth flew open.   
  
"Oh my God, Mon, I can't believe I missed this! It's gorgeous!" She grabbed the book, enthusiastically. It was a strapless Allison Blake dress, with fine pearl beading and made from ivory Thai silk. It was the perfect combination of tradition and style. It was unique but tasteful, and she couldn't help but imagine herself in it.   
  
"And look, it's only $800! God, you know, things sure have changed in the past few years." Phoebe's eyes nearly bugged out of her head.   
  
"$800? Rachel, are you crazy? You don't have that kind of money to spend!" Rachel made a face that could only be described as "duh", turning her attention back to the catalog.   
  
"Of course I don't! That's why it's a good thing I'm not the one paying for the wedding!"  
  
"Oh, that's right. I forgot about 'Daddy' and the tree full of money growing out of his ass. So I guess not THAT much has changed." Phoebe quipped, getting up to put her empty coffee mug in the sink. Rachel just smiled and nodded.   
  
"Yeah, well, let's just hope that tree still decides to drop some of it's money for this wedding once Daddy finds out it's with Ross." Monica offered a disbelieving scoff.   
  
"Oh, come on. Your dad doesn't really hate Ross that much!" Rachel put the catalog down, staring dead-pan at Monica. "...Does he?"  
  
"Well, that's what I always tell Ross...but I don't know. I'm actually kind of worried he's going to have a problem with it." Phoebe staked her claim to her chair again, rejoining the other two girls at the table.   
  
"Really? Do you think he actually wouldn't support it?" Rachel shrugged, looking somewhat legitimately worried.   
  
"No, no, he would. At the end of the day, Daddy knows how much Ross loves me. Maybe what's even more important, he knows how much I love Ross. They might not see eye-to-eye all the time, but he would never try to prevent me from marrying him."   
  
*****************************************************************************  
  
Back at Joey's apartment, the guys were eating pizza and playing Playstation 2. They were coincidentally also talking about the wedding. Predictably enough, however, they had managed to add their own testosterone-induced spin to the conversation.   
  
"So she gets the wedding and you get the honeymoon?" Joey asked, only half paying attention. His eyes were glued to the TV screen. Ross made a face like this was just now occurring to him.   
  
"Well, we hadn't really talked about it, but that sounds like something I could definitely go for!"  
  
"I'm telling you man, that's the way to play it. If you get to decide, where are you guys going to go?" Joey asked. Ross paused the game at this point in order to gather his own thoughts, but he consequently forced Joey to stop his game, as well.   
  
"I don't know. What do you guys think?" Joey dropped the Playstation controller, throwing Ross a "how obvious is it?" look.   
  
"Come on, DEFINITELY the Bahamas! You have to think practically here, Ross. Hot weather and beaches equals little clothing and lots of indoor activities, if you know what I'm talking about." Chandler chimed in for this one.   
  
"Yeah, man, someplace hot is the only way to go. Remember how Monica and I took that trip to Barbados last year?"  
  
"Okay, so I'm thinking that I don't really want to hear you finish that sentence," Ross offered, disgustedly. He turned to Joey.  
  
"So, really? The Bahamas?" Joey nodded, adding a "definitely" for extra emphasis.   
  
"And remember, dude...We want DETAILS when you get back!" Ross rolled his eyes, getting up and crossing the room to the front door. He walked across the hallway and entered Monica and Chandler's apartment. At his entrance, Rachel quickly rushed over to him with the catalogue in hand.   
  
"Ross! Tell me what you think of this dress! Isn't it perfect!?" He took the magazine from her and gave the dress she was pointing at a good once-over. It WAS beautiful, though he didn't know much about fashion. He put a hand on the small of her back and kissed her forehead in approval.   
  
"Yeah, it's great. You guys are handling all this stuff though, right? I don't have to like try and pretend I know which flower arrangement will look best with the bridesmaid's dresses, do I?" All the girls smiled at his obvious naivety to and near fear of all things "girly".   
  
"No, sweety, we're going to handle all of that. I just wanted to know what you thought." After a pause. "Hey, I was wondering, do you want to be there when I tell my father that we're getting married?" Ross starred at her, blankly.   
  
"Hmm, well, let's see. Would you want to be there when an eighteen wheeler transfer truck slammed into a cement highway median and cascaded down a ravine?"   
  
"Oh, come on, that's not the same thing at all!" Ross held his blank stare.   
  
"Are you sure?" Surprisingly, Rachel took this harshly. She looked legitimately upset, turning away from Ross coldly.   
  
"Fine, don't be there when I tell my father that I'm marrying the love of my life DESPITE his wishes because I KNOW we're meant for each other. No big deal." Feeling badly at his previous sarcasm and levity towards the obvious sensitive subject, and not wishing to stir anything up, he went to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her into an embrace.   
  
"No, I'm sorry, you're right. I'll be there." I can hardly wait, he thought.   
  
End Chapter 6. To Be Continued in Chapter 7. 


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG  
  
In this chapter, I'm assuming that the scene near the end of TOW The Race Car bed where Ross and Dr. Green actually get along during the luncheon never happened.  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
"Honey, you look fine! Stop fidgeting, you're making me nervous!" Rachel pulled down the mirror on the passenger's side of the Explorer, checking her hair and make-up one last time before pulling up to the restaurant. Ross had been tense all afternoon about this dinner with her father. Tonight was when they were going to tell him about their plans to get married. He had changed his outfit three times that night and had spent longer in the bathroom getting ready than SHE had. He had finally decided on the dark blue button-up dress shirt with the black slacks and yellow tie. She had to admit, it complimented him quite nicely. He was ruining the affect, however, with his obvious restlessness. If she were going to be honest, she felt sorry for him. She knew he wanted so badly to befriend her father, but he had always been so intimidated by him. After all, he father had always been an intimidating person.   
  
"Sweetie, everything's going to be fine! We'll drink some wine, we'll order dinner, and before you know it, he'll be offering to pay for the entire wedding himself!" Ross threw her a doubtful sideways glare. They were not sitting in the parked car along the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, both waiting for the other to take the initiative and actually walk inside.   
  
"I don't know. Remember last time we had dinner? I got stuck with a $200 bill and a new nickname!" His voice was doing that high whiney thing. She knew he was REALLY uneasy when he started with that. In hopes of easing some of the tension, she slid one hand up his leg and offered him a sexy, knowing stare.   
  
"I thought you liked that nickname...Mr. Big Shot." This got him smiling. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.   
  
"Okay, fine. Let's go." As they were getting out of car, he stopped and looked back at her.   
  
"But if the next nickname starts with "little", I'm going home!"   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
The inside of the restaurant was beautiful. Neither of them had ever been there before, but Dr. Green had suggested it. They saw him immediately when they walked in the front door. He was seated in a booth near the back, right besides a decorative crystal waterfall that stood in the corner. Rachel waved exuberantly, grabbing Ross' reluctant hand and practically dragging him towards the table. Her father smiled, opening his arms to embrace her.   
  
"How's my princess been?" He glanced at Ross, narrowing his eyes slightly- not in a threatening manner, but just to size him up. Ross nodded, actually making a somewhat successful attempt at smiling. Ross extended his hand.  
  
"Good evening, sir." Dr. Green nodded, but declined to shake his hand.   
  
"Uh huh." The three sat, picking up their menus. There was a dead silence for a good 30 seconds, which went almost unnoticed by Rachel and her father, but seemed like an eternity for Ross. He was breaking into a sweat. For some reason, he felt an overwhelming need to entertain the other two.   
  
"Don't worry, sir. I don't think this place even has lobster." What? he thought to himself. Why did I say that? He probably doesn't even remember that from the last time! What an idiot!   
  
"They have tips, though," Dr. Green quipped, not even looking up from his menu. Okay, so maybe he did remember. Ross looked over at Rachel, who not looked possibly even less comfortable than he did. She cleared her throat.   
  
"You know, daddy, Ross isn't working at the museum anymore." This seemed to grab his attention. He looked up over the top of his menu at Ross from behind his glasses, his face completely void of any emotion.  
  
"What, did you get fired?"   
  
"No, actually, he's working at NYU now. He's a professor there." Dr. Green's eyes returned to the menu. He was painfully unimpressed.   
  
"What's a teach? A class on how to calculate tips in your head?" Ross could feel himself losing it. After one look at Rachel, though, he began calming himself. She looked so hopeful that they could just work past this and share the good new with her father. She laid one hand on her dad's arm.   
  
"Now, daddy, that was a long time ago, and you taught him a valuable lesson. Can't we just forget about that and talk about something else?"   
  
"Sure, pumpkin, we can talk about anything you want!" Rachel smiled, feeling some of the tension relieve itself from her.   
  
"Okay, good." She wracked her brain in a desperate attempt at picking a subject that would boost Ross' image.   
  
"Oh, you know, Ross is traveling to New Mexico in a few weeks on an excavation!" He looked Ross in the eyes, his face still emotionless. It was impossible to gage what he was thinking.   
  
"Ah, running off on a dig to leave my daughter to fend for herself for a few months, eh Mr. Big Shot?" Ross' temper began to set again. He tried with all of his willpower to control it. He clenched his fists, which sat in his lap.   
  
"No, sir. It's not as if she'll be playing homemaker. She has a lot of..." He was cut off.   
  
"The what? Homemaker?" The blood drained completely from Ross' face. He swallowed deeply. Dr. Green looked over at Rachel. Wrong thing to say.   
  
"Homemaker? Are you two living together?" Rachel bit her lip, not sure of what to say. There was no tactful way of going about it. She knew her father, and he was about to lose it. He removed his glasses, his eyes intensifying their death-stare on Ross.   
  
"Are you meaning to tell me that you've been living with my princess out of wedlock?" After a moment of Ross' silence, he raised his voice.   
  
"Answer me, Geller! You think you can just have your way with her and then, and then just DUMP her when you're done!?" He was practically screaming.   
  
"Daddy, stop it, you're making a scene! It's not like that!"  
  
"Then tell me how it is, Rachel Karen Green! I'd expect behavior like this out of your sisters, but not you!" Ross spoke for the first time in several minutes.   
  
"Sir, it's not like that at all. I love your daughter very much. That's actually something I wanted to..." He was cut off again.   
  
"Let me tell you something, Geller! I don't like you! I don't want you to have anything to do with my daughter! What you do on your own time is your business, but I won't have you treating my daughter like some whore!" That was the last straw. Ross lost it.   
  
"Excuse me, sir, but your daughter is 28 years old! She's not a child anymore, and she can do whatever she damn well pleases!" Ross slid his chair away from the table, blind with anger. He stood, punctuating his speech.   
  
"Now, I love your daughter! In fact, I'm SO goddamn in love with her that I agreed to come here tonight, even after being insulted and humiliated by you on several previous occasions, just because I wanted her to be happy! In fact, I'd do ANYTHING to make her happy! That's why I'm marrying her!" The entire restaurant was silent. Everyone in the room had stopped eating and now all served as onlookers to the quarrel.   
  
"What did you say?" Dr. Green asked, staring up at Ross with utter disbelief painted across his face.   
  
"That's right! I'm marrying her! I proposed a few weeks ago, and we've already started planning it! Now, we CAME here tonight intent on telling you and counting on your being civil and happy for us! But if that's just TOO damn hard for you- if you refuse to even make an ATTEMPT at liking me- then you don't have to come!"   
  
Ross looked down at Rachel, who sat with her face buried in her hands. She had not said a word through the entire thing. Dr. Green just stared at him in shock. There was nothing left to say. With that, he took his jacket from the back of his chair, turned on his heels, and existed the restaurant.   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
About 45 minutes later, Rachel emerged from the restaurant. Ross watched her from the car as she walked towards it. She looked completely spent. Stands of her hair had fallen from the meticulously fixed and intricate bun that sat atop her head. It was cooler than when they had first set out that evening and she was still wearing a strapless dress, so she hugged herself tightly. He could not tell if she had been crying. His guess was that she had been. He hung his head and closed his eyes. He knew that what he had done had been emphatic and immature. He knew then that he had probably been in the wrong. Even with as incorrigible as Rachel's father was, he had no place to say the things that he did. Rachel probably hated him. He had screwed this one up big time.   
  
When she opened the door to the car and climbed inside, he did not even looked up at her. To the naked eye, he was not even aware of her presence. On the inside, though, he was screaming. He wanted to say so many things to her. He wanted her to say so many things to him. He wasn't exactly sure what was to come next, but he knew that it wasn't going to be good or easy.   
  
He kept his eyes fixed to his lap. With his tie hanging loosely from around his neck and the top button of his collar undone, he looked slightly disheveled. Even his usually precisely styled hair was tossed and messy. He looked just as tired as she did. Depending on how the rest of the meal went with her father, however, he wasn't sure he could claim to feel as tired. Finally, he cocked his head slightly to the side and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He had to admit, he was more than a little relieved to find that she wasn't crying. Part of him had been expecting it, and he honestly didn't know if he would have been able to handle that. Instead, she was just sitting there, her face devoid of sentiment. She looked lost in though- undoubtedly suspended in her recount and analysis of what had just taken place. He couldn't stand the silence any longer. Even if yelling at him would have been preferable. Slowly, he extended his arm and placed his hand over hers where it sat on her thigh. She didn't looked at him. The gesture didn't even register, as far as he was concerned. She just swallowed deeply and continued her bank stare. Her deep breath triggered his.   
  
"I'm sorry." That was all he could think to say. He knew it wasn't all he WANTED to say, but there was nothing else in his mind. Everything else got lost in the translation between his heart and his brain, and those were the only two words that he could find. For the first time since she'd entered the car, she looked at him. Her face was pale and still showed no signs of emotion. He could usually read her like a book, but there was nothing to read this time.   
  
"You always are." He nodded. He didn't really know why he did it. It was the worst form of self damnation- passive agreement. He didn't care, though. He knew it was true. He was always sorry. That's because he was always messing up. He waited for her to say something else, but instead, she just turned her attention back to the windshield. He didn't want the conversation to end that way. They had to fix this. He had to let her know what he had been thinking- how he'd been feeling. Maybe then she would understand. He squeezed her hand.   
  
"Look, Rachel, I..."  
  
"I know, Ross. You don't know what you were thinking, right?" He didn't say anything. She scoffed.   
  
"Well, that makes two of us." She turned her head the completely opposite direction now, directing her attention out of her passenger's side window. She wasn't looking at anything. She just couldn't look at him. It was silent for another few minutes  
  
"Rach, you have to understand..." She whirled her head back around to meet his gaze.   
  
"...that you love me? That you're sorry? That it won't happen again? Which one is it this time, Ross? How many times can you let your temper get the best of you and say things that you don't mean before you run out of excuses?" He couldn't let himself get defensive. That's exactly what this was about- his pride and his anger. She inhaled deeply, trying to suppress the tears that were welling up.   
  
"God, Ross, he's my father! Of course he doesn't like you! He doesn't like you because you're not perfect! You're not good enough for his 'little princess'! He doesn't like you because you're sleeping with me! He doesn't like you because we're living together! But mostly, Ross? Mostly he doesn't like you because he knows that you're replacing him!" She was crying freely now. Tears rolled down her face, staining her cheeks. He felt like such an ass.   
  
"It's not the gel in your hair, or your boring job, or the fact that you tip too much! It's because he knows that day has come when his daughter- his little girl- has found another man who she loves just as much as him! And you couldn't keep your temper in check long enough to tell him that we're going to be spending the rest of our lives together!" She buried her head in her hands, her shoulders taking violently with her tears. This was the worst torture he could ever experience. He partly wished that she would just jump into his seat and run him over with the damn car. That would have been better than knowing that he had caused her to cry. ANYTHING was better than that.   
  
"Just drive us home, Ross." And so he did. 


	8. Chapter 8

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
He turned the key in the lock and stepped into the apartment. They had not spoken since they left the restaurant. She had been in an almost hypnotic trance the entire way. She wouldn't even look at him, which, in turn, made him ashamed to look at her. So they made their way across town and up the stairs to their apartment without even the slightest acknowledgement that the other existed. He knew he should say something- anything at this point- but the more time that elapsed without spoken words, the less adequate each word that he could have said would have seemed.  
  
When they entered the apartment, Rachel went straight for the bedroom, shedding her coat along the way. Ross folded his jacket across the back of the couch and threw his keys on the end table by the door. Letting out an exasperated breath, he went for the answering machine.   
  
"You've reached Ross and Rachel. We aren't here right not, but leave a short message and we'll get back to you." He smiled. Somehow, hearing their names together like that still did something to him, even after all these years.  
  
"Hi guys, it's me!" Monica's voice resounded over the apartment. "I hope your dinner went well! Call me when you get this! Bye!" The smile disappeared from his face. Without giving even the slightest consideration to calling his sister back, he removed his tie and carried it, along with his coat, back to the bedroom.   
  
Rachel wasn't there. He knew she wouldn't be. That's the only reason he had even considered entering. She was already in the shower. He set the jacket and tie down in a chair and preceded to remove the rest of his clothing. He knew that attempting to join her in the shower wasn't even a possibility tonight, so he resigned himself to heading straight to bed. There was nothing else he could say to her. When this was resolved, if it was ever really resolved, it would be by her standards and on her time.   
  
He began unbuttoning the dress shirt, finding himself frustrated at the fastidiousness of it. Too many damn buttons, he thought. By the time he had discarded it, and had already begun to work on his belt, he heard the bathroom door open. His heart skipped a beat. He couldn't explain it, but what he was feeling could really only be descried as fear. He was a dear in the headlights, finding himself completely incapable of even moving. His back was to the door, so he couldn't tell exactly where she was, but he could feel her eyes on him. Something told him she was standing in the doorway, staring at him. Call it a feeling.   
  
Slowly, he turned around. And there she stood. She was wearing a white silk robe and a white terrycloth towel on her head. In the dim lighting, her skin looked flawless and soft. What could he say? She looked like an angel. She was starring intensely at him, giving him a look that he could only associate with one other time during their history- that night when they had shared their first kiss. The way she had looked at him through those two glass doors of the coffee house, with such pain and longing on her face, was exactly the way she was looking at him now. And it killed him.   
  
"Hi," he managed, his voice coming out soft and flat. She said nothing, but only drew her lower lip into her mouth, the way she did when she was nervous. She furrowed her brow, almost as if she had momentarily forgotten what that word meant. It was the standoff to beat all standoffs.   
  
"Are you done with the shower?" Classic Ross tactic- when you don't know what to say, avoid the situation all together. She blinked, nodding slightly. Her eyes did not leave his, though, and he was finding himself entranced by her. They were so big and blue. He had absolutely no idea what she was thinking.   
  
"Rach, I..." This time, he had not been cut off. He simply didn't know how he was going to finish the sentence. He did that a lot- starting thoughts with absolutely no idea of how to finish them. She continued her primitive stare, though, never once faltering or removing her eyes from his. That's it, he thought. This was real- this argument- and so there was no reason for them NOT to be real when they were confronting it. He let out a big puff of air, throwing his hands in the air.   
  
"Rachel, I don't know what to say, okay ?" This caught her attention. She had not been expecting that someone volatile outburst. She withdrew slightly, subconsciously tightening her road around her.   
  
"I'm sorry. I know I say that a lot, but that's how I feel- sorry. I'm sorry that I acted like such an idiot and embarrassed you in front of your father. I'm sorry that I insulted him and was insensitive to the situation. I'm sorry that I made a scene." He was on a roll now. Everything that he had wanted to say before was coming back to him in waves. To capitalize on his point, he too another step towards her with each statement. Before he knew it, he was standing before her. He lowered his voice but still kept his eyes nailed to hers.   
  
"But you know what I'm not sorry for, Rach? I'm not sorry that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm not sorry that I get defensive when it come to you and our relationship. And I'm not sorry that your father hates me..." This last one caught her off guard, causing her to frown at him and retreat backwards once more. But he had been prepared for that, and he stepped into as she retreated, continuing their dance in perfect timing. He grabbed her wrist, partly out of pure adrenaline and partly to insure that she would not leave before he could finish. He lowered his head so that he was face to face with his, breathing softly against her cheek.  
  
"because I'm not sorry that I'M that boy who got you to love him as much as you love your father. I'll be sorry for a lot of things until the day I die, Rachel, but I will never be sorry for that. Never." There were tears in her eyes, now, but he could tell that they weren't sad tears. They weren't really happy, either, though. They were tears derived from so many emotions that he could not pinpoint even one of them, but something told him that they weren't bad. He pulled back slightly, allowing her some of her personal space. He inhaled deeply.   
  
"And if that's not okay...Well, then I'm sorry for that, too." He turned to walk back towards the bed, but it was she who grabbed his wrist this time. She had her eyes fixated on his chest now, searching for the right words to say. Finally, she looked back up into his eyes. For the first time since they'd left the restaurant, she smiled at him.   
  
"It's okay." He smiled. Time to breath again, he thought. It's going to be okay. She wasn't done, though. She removed her hand from his wrist and slide both of them up his chest, stepping in closer to him. She did this a lot when they were talking about really important, emotional things. It was her way of letting him know that she still loved him while, at the same time, needed to get something off her chest. She was still looking him in the eye. He couldn't remember ever looking at ANYONE in the eye for this long.   
  
"But he is my father, Ross. I know he's an impossible man. He's stubborn, and irrational, and...difficult. But he is my father, and I love him. And he loves me. And as much as I love you and care about you, you are just going to have to understand that." He nodded, understandingly.   
  
"Besides," she continued, a little less intensely this time. "I seem to know someone else who isn't really all that different from him." Ross cocked an eyebrow, looking doubtfully at her. He wrapped his arms around her warmly, though. He had been dying to touch her all night, if only to insure himself that she was still his and that she forgave him. He ran his hands up and down her back.  
  
"Oh, come one! I am not difficult!" She let out a short laugh, silently begging to differ, but nevertheless burying her head in his chest. He kissed her forehead and playfully tugged on the sash of her robe.   
  
"Come on," he provoked. "Let's get some sleep."  
  
"Sleep?" she asked, grinning from ear to ear. "Is that REALLY want you want to get some of?" With this, he scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder, carrying her over to the bed and plopping her down. She squealed and giggled the entire way, opening her arms and welcoming him when he scooted up her body and laid down on top of her, resting his head on her chest. She brushed his hair with one hand and rubbed the other up and down his back. It wasn't until that moment that he realized just how tired he actually was.   
  
"You going to change into your pajamas, Ross?" He grunted an almost indecipherable "no", which actually came out more as "neh", before wiggling the sheets up around their bodies. She removed the towel from around her head, triggering an idea within him. He untied the sash on her silken robe, knowing that the energy it would take it remove it completely would be impossible, but settling for merely opening it so that he could lay against her bare skin. It still amazed him at how soft she was. He was half-asleep within seconds, but Rachel still laid awake, pondering something that had occurred to her only moments before, but she couldn't shake the idea.   
  
"Honey?" she asked, squeezing his bicep to get his attention.   
  
"Heh?" he grunted.   
  
"What do you think about eloping?"  
  
End chapter 8. To be continued in Chapter 9... 


	9. Chapter 9

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
"Honey?" she asked, squeezing his bicep to get his attention.   
  
"Heh?" he grunted.   
  
"What do you think about eloping?"  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
This got his attention. He lifted his head, meeting her gaze with his. He half expected her to be kidding, but he couldn't remember ever seeing her look more serious. Her eyes widened and she cracked a bit of a smile- not in jest, but in inquiry. His silence was becoming heavy and awkward, and he could tell that she was growing almost embarrassed in her suggestion. He smiled.   
  
"Uh, what made you think of this?" This was obviously not the response she'd been waiting for. She furrowed her brow.   
  
"I'm taking that to mean you don't think it's a good idea." He shook his head, eager to let her know that he just wasn't sure WHAT he thought of it.   
  
"No, no, it's not that. It's just that, uh, that seemed a little out of the blue." He realized after a moment that she was waiting for him to finish.   
  
"I mean, I just thought that you'd always wanted a big wedding." She nodded in agreement.   
  
"Well, I always have. But, I don't know...it just seems right to me."   
  
"Well, yeah, honey, but you've got to ask yourself if this it going to be one of those things that feels right in the moment but that you realize was a big mistake, later on." She nodded, again, in agreement.   
  
"I know that it seems a little impulsive and crazy, but I think we could use some of that! Besides, it's something you can always look back on and remember. It's something to tell the grandkids! Isn't that what you'd want it a marriage- something unforgettable?"  
  
"Well...yes. It's just that...I've always seen you as more of the kind of girl who wants an unforgettable wedding because of it's elaborate ice sculptures and custom-made embroidery on the tablecloths..." She cut him off.   
  
"Hey, why do I have to be a certain 'kind of girl'? Maybe I want to mix things up- throw caution to the wind! But if you're scared..." Ross took this as a blow to his manhood. He playfully smacked her shoulder.   
  
"I am NOT scared! I just want to make sure you get the wedding you deserve! I've waited a long time to marry you, and when it finally happens, I want to make sure you're happy with it! I've already done this once, you know, with all the stops pulled out. This time, it's up to the bride." She smiled, taking in the sentiment and sweetness that had accompanied his speech, but even more endearingly, that had gone completely unnoticed by him.   
  
"Well then...this is what I want. This is what will make me happy." She swallowed, looking at her intently for another few seconds, partly waiting for her to break and admit that she'd been kidding the entire time. But that didn't happen, and so he nodded, kissing her shoulder.  
  
"Okay. If this is what will make you happy, then this is what we'll do." She giggled and ran a hand through his hair, closing her eyes and, being satisfied, allowed herself to become completely relaxed with the anticipation of sleep. Ross was not done yet, however.   
  
"Hey, Rach? What about the guys?"   
  
***************************************************************************  
  
It was a Saturday morning at Monica and Chandler's, and everyone except for Ross and Rachel were eating breakfast at the kitchen table. There was not much talking, as everyone was eating quietly and mostly keeping to themselves. Suddenly, drawn to words by something that caught his attention in the paper, Chandler broke the silence.   
  
"Don't you think that people who read these personal adds in here would be suspicious right off the bat of someone who has to pay to beg for dates, and isn't required to submit a picture?" Joey and Phoebe were rendered almost pensive, but this barely phased Monica, who didn't even look up from her bowl of fruit.   
  
"Didn't you write into those things until you were 23?" More than a little offended, Chandler rushed to defend himself.   
  
"Hey, that was an experiment I was doing for my major!" Once again, Monica is not affected, and still doesn't look up from her food.   
  
"You majored in Computer Communications." Finally succumbing to his defeat, he moodily returned his attention to reading the paper, but not before mumbling something about how personal adds would have been the only way for Monica to find a date in high school. Before she had a chance to retaliate, Ross and Rachel entered.   
  
"Hey, guys!" Rachel exclaimed, looking even more fresh and animated than usual. "We've got some news!" She was smiling from ear to ear, and even her walk was more brisk. Everyone turned to face her excitedly, each one sure of what the news are.   
  
"You're pregnant?" asked Monica. Rachel shook her head, still smiling widely.   
  
"You're moving?" Chandler inquired, somewhat anxiously. Again, Rachel shook her head, eager for someone to guess correctly.   
  
"Oh, you finally convinced Ross to stop buying that gross hair gel?" Phoebe yelled. Rachel rolled her eyes.   
  
"Trust me, if it were possible, it would have been done a LONG time ago. But no. Come on, someone, guess!" Ross looked confused, but kept quiet while the others guess. Finally, Rachel couldn't take it any longer.   
  
"Okay, Ross and I are eloping!" Complete shock and confusion filled the room- mouths hanging agape and all. Monica shook her head, almost as if she were trying to clear it of what had just been said.   
  
"Rachel, there are so many things wrong with that sentence, I don't even know where to being." Rachel's face immediately dropped, along with her formerly gesticulating hands. Her voice broke a little and raised an octave, the way it often did when she was whining or inquiring about something.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Well, first of all," Monica continued, "I thought you were already planning on having a big wedding!" Rachel jumped in to defend herself.   
  
"Well, I was, but then -" Monica cut her off.   
  
"I said 'first of all', implying a second! So, SECOND of all, isn't it not eloping if you tell everyone about it?" Rachel crossed her arms protectively over her chest.   
  
"Well, I WAS planning on having a big wedding, but after thinking about it, I thought 'what's really the point'?" Monica cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.   
  
"That doesn't sound like you."   
  
"Why does everybody keep saying that!?" Rachel was not obviously exasperated, causing Ross to join her at her side. He put his hand to the back of her neck, holding it there in a supportive gesture.   
  
"Look, you guys, I know you always thought Rachel would want a big wedding. I thought that, too. But after talking to her last night, I realized that she's right- there's really no point. I mean, after you've been through as much as the two of us have, there's no need for some big fancy ceremony. We know what we mean to each other, and that's all that counts. We don't need a bunch of expensive ornaments and food to make it special. And, as for why we decided to tell you...we wanted you to be there."   
  
Everyone was silent, feeling a little guilty for having passed such premature judgment, especially Monica. She nodded in understanding. She got up from the kitchen table to go stand in front of Rachel.   
  
"I'm sorry, Rach. It's just that, ever since we were little girls, we've always fantasized about what our weddings would be like. I guess I was just a little sad to know that those dreams wouldn't be coming true." Rachel nodded, but then looked around Monica at Chandler. Sensing that she was about to say something, Chandler's eyes widened and he shook his head profusely.  
  
"Don't worry, I wasn't going to say anything about the two of you!" Rachel huffed. Monica whirled around to look at Chandler, who was caught like a dear in the headlights.   
  
"Oh, Rachel, way to be discreet," he quipped, his tone dripping of sarcasm. Monica rolled her eyes and turned back to Rachel.   
  
"I know," Rachel continued, putting a hand on her best friend's shoulder, "but maybe this will be even better. The point is to be somewhat spontaneous, very casual, and to have the ceremony someplace exciting. Oh, and it has to be inexpensive. Also, it would be nice if it were by a beach. Oh, and..." Chandler cut her off.   
  
"Wow, Rach, are you sure you want to do this completely spontaneously? Because, you know, I hear that's hard to do after you've already planned everything out." She narrowed her eyes at him before turning back to Monica and Ross.   
  
"Plus, you know what this means...another road trip."  
  
End Chapter 9. To Be Continued in Chapter 10. 


	10. Chapter 10

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: R  
  
Note: This chapter is rated R. I usually pride myself on never including gratuitous sexual situations, but I slipped up this time :-) Oh well, what're gonna do? I decided to let them have some fun. It's nothing too heavy. It is still tasteful, though, and I promise you that I will never forfeit that aspect. It probably doesn't even deserve that R rating, but I decided that if I were going to error, I should do so on the safe side. If you're a diehard Ross and Rachel fan, you're probably grateful for it, considering their recent lack of interaction on the show. Anyway, enjoy!  
  
Also, I don't own the song "Perfect Skin" by Lloyd Cole or "Follow Me" by Mel Carter.  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
After about a week of very minimal planning, Ross and Rachel mutually decided on a location for their wedding. When they were kids, Ross and Monica had always gone with their parents to this very esoteric, lake-side ski resort in Vermont, owned by a family friend. It was a governor's club type setup, meaning only "lineage members" were permitted to stay there, but all it took was one phone call from Ross to insure three rooms for the weekend at a discount rate and exclusive use of the gazebo on Saturday night. The entire interlude would only run them about $800, including a private, complimentary dinner reception following the ceremony. The owner had also agreed to aid Ross in a "special surprise", of which Rachel knew nothing.  
  
So, on Thursday evening, the six met at Chandler and Monica's to begin their weekend journey. Rachel had initially insisted upon keeping the ceremony casual, refusing any of Monica's incessant offers to take her wedding dress shopping. However, arguable knowing Rachel better than anything else, Monica was fairly certain she'd change her mind at the last minute, so she took the liberty of purchasing and secretly packing a casual yet elegant dress for Rachel.   
  
Now, with all possible glitches out of the way and all the luggage packed, everyone piled into the SUV, once more, with the certainty of an exciting road trip and an eventful weekend ahead of them. Chandler, again, took his position behind the wheel with Monica as his navigator. Ross persisted that Monica would "never remember how to get there", but, being confident as she was, Monica ignored him and elbowed her way into the front seat. After fighting traffic for a good half hour just to get out of New York, the car turned north, and they were on their way.   
  
***************************************************************************  
  
The sun went down around 6:30 pm, after less than an hour into their trip. With the absence of sunlight, Phoebe and Joey's backseat game of Pictionary was terminated, forcing them to pick a new source of amusement. To the slight annoyance of the other four, they quickly chose Name That Tune, appointing themselves, rather than the radio, as the musical providers.   
  
"You guys want to play," Joey offered. "The category is 'television theme songs'." Everyone indifferently declined, leaving Phoebe and Joey to their own devices for the rest of the way. In the front seat, Chandler and Monica were fighting over the radio.   
  
"I'm telling you, there is NO WAY I'm listening to Jennifer Lopez for the rest of this car ride," Chandler insisted, reaching over for the radio dial.   
  
"Oh, so it's okay to stare at her ass all day, but to actually enjoy what she does for a living- that's out of the question," Monica retaliated, brushing Chandler's hand away.   
  
"You know, I'm really glad we're starting to understand each other," he quipped, finally succumbing to Monica and at least another few minutes of "If You Had My Love".   
  
(Author's Note: I know that song is probably from, like, light years ago, but I don't know squat about Jennifer Lopez or her latest "single". That's the only one I remember. So, to any potential "J. Lo" fans out there- my apologies. Now, back to the story.)   
  
Meanwhile, in the middle section of the car, Rachel was using the absence of sunlight to her advantage, taking the opportunity to squeeze in a nap before their arrival at the hotel. She was sprawled out, forcing Ross into a tiny segment of the seat up against the window. She laid on her back with her head in his lap, while he stroked her hair and played with the fingers of her right hand. Absentmindedly, he stroked the ring that was placed so elegantly there, rotating it around her finger. She noticed this gesture and smiled.   
  
"It really is a beautiful ring," she offered, cutting into his thoughts and bringing him back down to Earth from whatever cloud he had previously been residing on. Not knowing exactly what to say, he settled for smiling and placing a soft kiss on the palm of her hand which contained the ring. In doing so, he realized for the first time that evening just how amazing she looked. She was wearing dark jeans that hugged her hips and thighs, and the waistband of which dipped down impossibly low. The bottom of her red tank top had scooted up, resting at the bottom of her ribcage and revealing an expanse of her flat, tan stomach. Her hair, as usual, was doing that "accidentally perfect" thing, where it seemed both wild yet precise. It rested in waves across his lap, and the moonlight reflected flawlessly off of it, adding to it a golden shimmer. He found himself getting increasingly aroused. How couldn't he? Any warm-blooded male, when placed in a close proximity of this woman for any length of time at all, was BOUND to start noticing these things in painfully minute detail. The only difference between him and every other warm-blooded male was that he had explicit permission to do something about it.   
  
Carefully, as to not acquire attention from any of the other four, Ross took his jacket from the back of their seat and placed it over top of Rachel. Confused, she sent him a quizzical look, but suddenly became very clear as to what he was doing when he smiled slyly and arched a playful eyebrow. Teasingly, he brought a finger to his lip, signally her to be very quiet, which was actually a rather difficult task, considering the absolute silence that had recently enveloped the car. Joey and Phoebe had submitted to their car ride induced fatigue minutes previously, and Chandler and Monica were listening quietly to some soft rock station up front.   
  
Indiscreetly and ever so softly, Ross placed his hand on the inside of her thigh, brushing his thumb back and forth over the rough fabric of her jeans. For some inexplicable reason, this sent chills up her spine. They had obviously been in much more intimate situations than this, but for whatever reason, just the weight of his hand on her leg gave her goose bumps. Perhaps it was the possibility in the back of her mind that one of the others would discover them. Rationally, she knew that even if one of them WAS to notice their furtive rendezvous, they most likely wouldn't care or comment. Something about the pitch of the car and stillness in the air reverted her back to her days of awkward high school encounters and sweaty palms. Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking- the way they did when Chip put his arm around her for the first time in the back of the movie theater. This was different, though. This was Ross. There was love accompanying these touches, making the affect all that much more powerful.   
  
Slowly, he moved his hand up her leg, letting his thumb graze the metal teeth of her zipper. He stopped then, just like she knew he would. He was such a tease when it came to things like this. When he knew she wanted him, but had little to no control over the situation, he was painfully stingy with his touches. He did it knowing full well that she hated and loved it all at once. He also knew that it would provoke one of the sexiest moves she could ever make- placing her hand over his for guidance. When other women had done that, he hadn't liked it. He deemed it demanding and offensive. When she did it, however, he loved it. He had no idea why. Before he could deliberate on it for much more, however, he felt the long graceful fingers of her left hand come to rest atop his right. She pushed his hand up, asking him wordlessly to continue in his exploration. He had not initially planned on it going that far, but he should have known better. There was no way he could stop himself now.   
  
The unzipping in itself took close to a minute- a glaringly long minute- in his attempts to remain silent. Finally, when he was done, he waited for the light grazing of her fingernails over the skin on his hand before proceeding. The sexiest thing about all of this was not the necessity of it remaining undercover, or the moonlight that was encasing the car in it's warm glow, or even the fiery contact of her hand atop his. No, the biggest turn-on for him was the fact that he could actually hear her heart beating. In fact, he couldn't ever remember hearing it beat so loudly. Even at times when he had been laying with his ear pressed directly up against her chest, he had not heard it beat with the ferocity and intensity that he did now. It exhilarated him- knowing that he was having that affect over her. Then, when he didn't think it was possible for her to be any more attractive to him, she arched her back slightly, lifting her hips a little into the air.   
  
Okay, this was getting out of control. When he had started all of this, he had possessed no conceivable notion that it might have turned into one of their most intimate encounter to date. He was sweating now, and he was pretty sure that his hand was shaking noticeably beneath hers. Just as he bent his fingers inside the denim of her jeans and felt the silkiness of her underwear browse his skin, the soft lyrics of the song coming from the radio caught his attention.   
  
"And I'm staying up here, so I may be undone  
  
She's inappropriate, but then she's much more fun   
  
And when she smiles my way,  
  
my eyes go out in vain   
  
She's got perfect skin"  
  
He closed his eyes, concentrating on nothing but her erratic breathing. His arm was snaked down her stomach, and he could feel her soft, gooseflesh skin against his. Her stomach and chest rose and fell deliberately, obviously in her attempt at regulating her breathing. At one point, he thought he heard a limp moan, but it was so subtle and brief that it's existence could never be confirmed.   
  
"She says 'turn on the light,   
  
otherwise it can't be seen'   
  
She's got cheekbones like geometry,  
  
and eyes like sin   
  
And she's sexually enlightened   
  
by cosmopolitan   
  
And when she smiles my way,   
  
my eyes go out in vain   
  
For her perfect skin   
  
Yeah, that's perfect skin"  
  
Suddenly, his mind was flashing back to that fateful night in the planetarium. He was only catching the encounter in waves, but what was actually coming back to him seemed strikingly similar to his current situation. He remembered how hot her skin at been...  
  
"At the age of ten...  
  
And I loved her then,   
  
but how was she to know?  
  
That when she smiles my way,   
  
my eyes go out in vain   
  
She's got perfect skin"  
  
He remembered how surprisingly powerful and strong her touch had been for such a delicate body...  
  
"The river is cruel   
  
and the water is deep and blue"  
  
He remembered how blue her eyes had been- so blue, that against the black contrast of the darkness around them, they had provided an electric glow that had seemingly illuminated the entire room...  
  
"I lived on the edge of all this indulgence"  
  
He remembered the need- how he had never experienced that intense a need in another human being, and how it had scared him almost to the point of tears.   
  
Faintly, he made out the still air that proceeded the changing of songs. Then, it was gone, and a different melody thickened the air between them.   
  
"Light comes in,  
  
I watch you wake   
  
Wanting you so much,   
  
my heart could break   
  
To touch your skin,  
  
to feel your hair   
  
I'd follow you anywhere"   
  
When he heard her breath catch momentarily in the back of her throat, accompanied by the wonderful friction of her back rubbing rhythmically against his knee, he opened his eyes. Tilting his head to the side, he watched her face.   
  
"Light goes out,   
  
I watch you sleep   
  
Never imagine love so deep   
  
I close my eyes,   
  
to breath the air   
  
I'd follow you anywhere"  
  
Her eyes were closed, but he could see her eyelids fluttering ever so softly. He watched her fingernails as they dug into the upholstery of the seat, whitening her knuckles. He watched he steady rise and fall of her chest, escorted by the deep intake and exhaling of her breath.   
  
"In the waves that wash over me,   
  
wash over you   
  
Follow me,   
  
I'll follow you   
  
Through your dreams,   
  
to secret places  
  
Here's my hand,   
  
just take it"  
  
He leaned down, stroking her hair with his free hand, and placed a small kiss on her brow. Then, lowering his lips even further down to her ear, he let his hot breath linger there for just a moment before whispering the most honest words he'd ever spoken.   
  
"You're beautiful." Then, so quietly and breathily that not even she could make out exactly what he was saying, he began to sing along with the words on the radio.  
  
"Nobody knows who made the stars  
  
Baby, the whole world is ours   
  
From Liverpool to Leicester Square   
  
I'd follow you anywhere.  
  
Angels that watch over me,   
  
watch over you   
  
Follow me,   
  
I'll follow you   
  
Through your dreams,   
  
to secret places   
  
Where nobody can trace us  
  
We'll make it through   
  
I'll follow you  
  
I always do"  
  
Then, like clockwork, he felt her body squirm roughly yet unobtrusively against his, and he heard in quick passing, the jagged catch in her breath that had always signaled the end.   
  
For moments afterwards, she laid there in complete stillness and silence. He didn't dare move his face away from hers, so instead, he let it hover those few inches away. They could each feel the breath of the other against their faces, not sure as to which belonged to who, and not particularly caring. What they had just experienced had indisputably been one of the most personal, loving, intimate, sexual exchanges either of them had or would ever encounter. Before too long, he shifted his weight, scooting his body down the seat until he was lying down beneath her. The seat was not wide enough to keep her at his side, so he situated her on top of her, nestling them both beneath his jacket in a snug cocoon. He encircled her in his arms, suddenly feeling very protective of her, and pulled her tightly to his chest. He thought he could feel her shaking slightly.   
  
"What is it?" he asked quietly, still making sure that the others couldn't hear them. Now, it was more from not wanting to ruin their exclusive moment, rather than from fear of being discovered. She buried her face in his neck and kissed him there, answering his question in the most appropriate manner she could think of, though he wouldn't understand immediately.  
  
"I love you," she whispered back, her voice muffled against his chest.   
  
And to think, this entire union had gone unnoticed to the rest of the world, slipping silently underneath the radar of even the car's other four inhabitants. Something so small and insignificant had proven to be a source of so much intimacy and understanding between two people, who, on that night, had gained some bit of unspoken clarity.   
  
End Chapter 10. Continued in Chapter 11. 


	11. Chapter 11

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
In another hour so after Ross and Rachel's "encounter", the SUV made it's way across the Vermont boarder. Since the resort was located in West Glover, at the Northeast tip of the state, the group still had a good two hours ahead of them. By this time, all four of the passengers in the back were sleeping soundly, having run out of both car games and energy. Meanwhile, Monica and Chandler were having problems of their own in the front seat.   
  
"Are you SURE we're still on I-91?" Chandler asked, obviously becoming increasingly frustrated as more time passed without any sign of their exit. In the passenger's seat, Monica rustled through three different road maps, attempting to stay calm.   
  
"Where else could we be? We've been riding this interstate since New York!" She turned the map upside down, then right side up again. Exasperated, she groaned and threw it down in the floorboard all together.   
  
"Why don't you just stop at the next rest stop and ask for direction?" Chandler tossed her a "I'm a man and I don't need directions" look from behind the wheel.   
  
"How difficult can it be? We take 91 to 16! It's like TWO turns! My blind Aunt Olive could have made it without directions! But us? No, WE need to 'stop at the next rest stop'!" Monica rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"Look, that sign says that the next rest stop is only half a mile away. They can tell us if we've missed our exit." After another half mile, Chandler took the off-ramp and guided the vehicle into what was arguably the most sketchy rest stop in the Northeast. It was surrounded by trees, and consisted of two cement buildings, connected by an overhang. The few picnic tables were made of splintered wood and were chained to the ground- not to mention drenched from the earlier storm. Chandler shot Monica an "I told you so" face as he unbuckled.   
  
"You know, Chandler, this weekend has potential to be INCREDIBLY long if you're going to act like this the whole time." Chandler made a face as if he was totally oblivious to what she was talking about.   
  
"Acting like what?" he sarcastically quipped, adding on a smirk for flavor. She was not amused.   
  
"Besides, it has a bathroom and a vending machine. We can all stretch our legs, at the very least." After her suggestion, she turned around in her seat to wake up the others. She whispered, as to not jar them from their slumber too erratically.   
  
"Pst, Ross!" He moved a little, opening his eyes in a confused haze.   
  
"Wha? Arewethereyet?" he inquired groggily.   
  
"No, we just crossed over into Vermont. We're at a rest stop to ask for directions." At this, Ross became completely awake, not missing a chance to chastise his sister.   
  
"See? I SO told you you wouldn't remember how to get there!" Monica roller her eyes and turned to exit the car, but not before managing to get the last word in.   
  
"I wouldn't be so short with the person who let your little tryst go unnoticed before." His eyes widened in confused horror as Monica chuckled and stepped out of the automobile. He shook Rachel by the shoulders, who was laying with her head in his lap.   
  
"Hey, sweetie," he cooed, not wanting to rile her too quickly. He knew she was tired. "You want to get out for a little while? We're at a rest area." Rachel gasped a little as she lifted her head suddenly from his lap, scanning her eyes around the car and taking a moment to realize exactly where she was. After everything connected, including Ross' words, she nodded gently and followed him out of the car.   
  
"Do you think we should wake up Pheebs and Joe?" Ross asked before shutting the door behind them. Rachel shook her head.   
  
"No, let them sleep. I think all those car games really wore them out." She smiled and nodded her head in their direction. Joey was sleeping sitting up, and he was still holding his hand from Old Maid. Meanwhile, Phoebe was leaning against the window, but was still clutching tightly to a game of Battleship. Ross shut the door and began walking in the direction of the building with Rachel by his side.   
  
They were quiet for a moment, both still a little asleep from their nap in the car. They also hadn't really spoken since their encounter, and were a little hesitant to mention it. Talking about it might have made it seem less real, and neither wanted that. It was something special that had happened spontaneously between them and that had been birthed from pure passion and love. There was no need to talk about it, and they were both pretty sure that it would never be discussed between them.   
  
The air was a little colder than it had been when they left New York, and he noticed that she had folded her arms tightly across her chest. He would have offered her his jacket, but he left it in the car, so he instead draped his arm over her shoulders and hugged her closely to his side, kissing the top of her head. She smiled, in a somewhat sad and reminiscent way, and leaned her head into his arm.   
  
"Did you bring warm clothes? It's going to be colder in Vermont than it was in New York." She nodded, but still did not speak.   
  
"What's the matter?" he asked intuitively, knowing that something had to be up. It wasn't like her to go for so long without saying a word. She shook her head. He wasn't sure if this meant "nothing" or "I don't want to talk about it". He decided to pursue it, either way. He stopped them and turned to face her, holding both of her hands with his at their sides.   
  
"Come on, Rach. I can tell something's wrong. You look sad." She shook her head and smiled a little, just to reassure him that she wasn't sad. There was something that was bothering her, but it wasn't sad. Nothing could make her sad. It was the day before her wedding.   
  
"I'm not sad. I'm just...thinking." He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed playfully.   
  
"Well, in that case, penny for your thoughts?" She sighed deeply, turning her face to look away from him. She wasn't really looking at anything in particular. More accurately, she was gazing aimlessly into the thick woods that surrounded the rest area. After a few moments, she shook her head.   
  
"Don't you ever just stop and wonder how we got here?" He was a little taken aback by this, and wasn't really sure if he liked the way she said "here".   
  
"Where's 'here'?" She looked at him.  
  
"Here. You know...about to be married. We met fourteen years ago, Ross. We were in the ninth grade, and you saw me, and you never gave up. We were fourteen years old...and now, here we are. Doesn't that ever just like blow your mind?" He paused to think about this for a moment.   
  
"I guess I never really thought about it." He could tell that she was perplexed by this, so he quickly continued.   
  
"I mean, I guess there just wasn't ever enough time to stop and think about it. For me, at least. I was kind of busy with the whole 'blindly chasing after you' thing." He squeezed her hand as he said it, hoping that it would provoke a smile and ease some of the tension. It did.   
  
"In all seriousness, though, Rach. It doesn't surprise me." She narrowed her gaze on him, obviously surprised at this response.   
  
"Really?"   
  
"Nope. Because I saw you, and I never gave up for a REASON. I knew you didn't like me. Hell, I knew you probably would never have even known that I existed if I weren't Monica's brother. But...I knew. Maybe not from the beginning, but definitely after you came to New York and back into my life. I knew that had to have happened for a reason. Things like that don't just happen every day, Rachel. I didn't focus so much on the 'how'. That didn't matter. All that mattered was that I loved you since the first time I met you...and, somehow, I got a second chance with you. THAT'S why I'm marrying you. 'How' and 'why' couldn't mean less to me."   
  
She had tears in her eyes by the end of his speech. She squeezed his hand where it sat on her thigh, and leaned over to kiss him softly on the lips. After patting his leg as a vote of confidence and approval of his explanation, she extended her hand to him.   
  
"Come on, I'm thirsty. Let's go find Chandler and Monica and get something to drink."  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
Ross and Rachel made their way through the big glass doors of the information center, only to be greeted by Chandler and Monica, who were exchanging some pretty loud and harsh words with an Asian woman who was seated behind the counter. Rachel approached Monica and put her hand on her shoulder.   
  
"Hey, Mon, what's going on?"   
  
"Well, apparently SOMEONE decided it would be a good idea to station the woman with less than five words in her English vocabulary at the welcome center! The rest is pretty self explanatory." She motioned to Chandler, who was doing some sort of unidentifiable gesticulation with his hands and yelling "interstate" at the top of his lungs.   
  
"Honey, for the tenth time, she doesn't speak English! Yelling more loudly doesn't magically translate the word!" Realizing that he was a man and wasn't going to listen to her anyway, Monica rolled her eyes and turned back to Rachel.  
  
"Where are Joey and Phoebe?"   
  
"Oh, we left them sleeping in the car. We didn't want to wake them. Have you guys found out ANYTHING yet?" Monica shook her head.   
  
"Well, thanks to Wendy the Welcomer over here, we know that we are in Vermont and that the state bird is the Hermit Thrush, which actually came out 'Humit Truhsh', so we're just assuming with that one." With this, Ross piped in.   
  
"Huh, I thought it was the Turdus Solitarius." Chandler turned his head away from the woman momentarily.  
  
"That's the scientific name," he offered, before turning his attention back to his "conversation" again. Monica shook her head in disbelief.   
  
"Okay, BIG PICTURE, people!" Rachel touched her arm in comfort.   
  
"Alright, well, Ross and I are going to go check out that vending machine. Maybe you guys will have figured something out by the time we get back."  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
  
  
The two rounded the corner of the building the where the vending machine sat, hidden in a sunken indention in the concrete. Rachel reached inside her back pocket for a dollar, but was met only by an empty pouch of denim.   
  
"Hey, do you have any change?" she asked, whirling around to face him. Slowly, a mischievous smile crept across his face. He sauntered closer to her, cocking his head slightly to the side. Casually, he slid his thumbs into the belt loops of her pants, stroking the exposed skin just above her waistband with his fingers.  
  
"I think I have some in my back pocket." He raised his eyebrow, daringly. She smiled, knowing exactly what he was implying. Something had gotten into him today. Though they hadn't discussed it, they were both WELL aware of the little exchange that had taken place between them previously, and now this. If she was going to be honest with herself, she loved the attention. She couldn't let him become too aware of this, however, or he'd grow to be completely incorrigible. When boundaries were set, she was always the one who had to do it. Otherwise, she knew he'd be content to do nothing but make love all day.   
  
At first, she played along, leaning into him and sliding her hands smoothly into his back pockets. After finding the dollar and grasping it between her fingertips, she made sure to pinch his ass before removing her hands, just for fun. When he attempted to move forward and capture her lips with his, though, she teasingly moved her head back just slightly enough for him to miss. When he tried a second time, she made the same maneuver. This continued for a few seconds, until they both broke down into giggles and she placated him by allowing him a quick kiss before removing her hands from his pockets and turning away to insert the bill into the machine. He shook his head to himself.   
  
"You'll always leave me wanting more, Rachel Green." After retrieving her Diet Coke, she turned back to him and planted one more kiss on his cheek before grabbing his hand and leading him away from the machine and back inside the building.  
  
"Good, then you'll always have a reason to come back."  
  
*****************************************************************************  
  
On their way back inside, Ross and Rachel nearly smacked into Chandler and Monica, who were on their way out.  
  
"Oh, so I take it you found out where we are," Rachel stated. Chandler held up a map in his left hand.   
  
"Sort of. After about twenty minutes, I realized that there were a bunch of 'updated' road maps sitting beside me on the counter. Apparently, the highways have been recently rerouted. What used to be highway 16 is now 13."  
  
"In English?" Ross asked.  
  
"Yeah, we passed it," Chandler finished. Before Ross or Rachel could get a word in, Monica jumped in.  
  
"BUT, we can still take 53. It's not as direct, but it's probably quicker than turning back around."  
  
"Well, how long is that going to take?" Rachel asked, a little upset that their plans were getting so off-track. They did have reservations at the hotel for that evening, and a detour could set things off.   
  
"I'm guessing maybe another two hours?" Chandler estimated. Rachel was upset, but there was nothing that could be done.   
  
"Okay," she stated, defeated, "everyone back in the car!"  
  
End Chapter 11. Continued in Chapter 12. 


	12. Chapter 12

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
After another two and a half hours in the car, the SUV finally pulled into Junaluska Ski Lodge around 10:00 pm. Chandler and Monica woke the other four, who had been sleeping for the remaining duration of the trip since the rest stop. All six, very exhaustedly, made their way into the lobby of the colossal resort.   
  
The foyer was impressive, to say the least. It was dressed in a mostly wilderness decor, with deer antlers mounted on the massive oak walls, and a humungous bearskin rug at the center of the floor. Oak coffee tables, scattered with coffee mugs and magazines, were strategically placed in a sunken sitting area between the front door and the front desk. A 6-foot-tall antler chandelier hung above the group's head, and dim lighting added to the relaxed mood.   
  
They made their way across the polished wooden floors to the receptionist's desk. She was a young woman, probably in her early 20's, with shoulder-length brown hair and deep chestnut eyes. Her skin was olive-tinted, suggesting an Italian bloodline. Overall, she was very attractive, but gave off a more rigid aura that added darker, more defined undertones to her complexion and stature. She was wearing a fitted navy blue suit, obviously company-issued, and her nametag read "Lindsay". When she looked up from her computer screen and met Monica's eye, her deadpan face immediately broke out into a smile.   
  
"Monica!? Oh my God, what are you doing here?!" Monica practically dropped her bags where she was and ran over to Lindsay, meeting her in a tight embrace. The two jumped up and down together, screaming and laughing like little girls.   
  
"Everyone, come over here! I want you to meet Lindsay!" The other 5 walked over to where the two women were standing, a little unsure of exactly who this girl was or what was going on.   
  
"Lindsay, these are my friends! That's Phoebe and Joey. This is my boyfriend, Chandler, and that's Rachel. Oh, and you remember Ross, right?" At the realization of Ross' presence, Lindsay's eyes narrowed a bit, and the smile faded from her face. She became suddenly stiff, intently meeting his gaze and fidgeting uncontrollably.   
  
"Oh, uh, yes. I remember Ross." The mood became deathly somber as the other 5 attempted to figure out exactly what had caused this reaction. Ross seemed almost equally as nervous and fidgety, refusing to look Lindsay in the eye. Monica looked confused.   
  
"Uh, guys? Is everything okay?" Provoked my Monica's words, Lindsay snapped out of whatever trance she had been in, looking up at her long-time friend and smiling simply.   
  
"Oh, yeah, everything's fine. I was just remembering something, right Ross?" Ross turned his eyes downward before answering.   
  
"Right, yeah." During all of this, no one had noticed Rachel's growing discomfort and perplexity. She found herself discreetly moving closer to Ross, until she was finally pressed up right against him, resting her arm possessively around his waist. Some uncontrollable urge to defend herself and their relationship had inexplicably come over her. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about Ross' reaction to Lindsay just did not sit right with her.   
  
"Anyway," Monica finally intervened, "I guess you guys are wondering how I know Lindsay! When I was in college, I worked here during the summer. Lindsay was a rising freshman at Fordham, the summer after I graduated, but we worked and lived here together for two months. Her dad owns the place- he's the family friend who cut the great deal for you and Ross, Rach. Anyway, we kind of lost touch after that, except for a few coffee meetings and phone calls. Where are you living now?"   
  
"Oh, I'm living here at the resort, working full time." Monica wrinkled her nose and tilted her head to the side in disbelief.   
  
"Really? Didn't you major in paleontology? Why would you be working as a receptionist at a hotel?" At the mention of Lindsay's major, Rachel's ears perked up. She directed her attention up at Ross, who was trying his hardest (to no avail) to look unaffected by the conversation that was taking place between his sister and this pretty woman.  
  
"I know," Lindsay continued, "but they're kind of short on staff, right now. It's not forever. I was working as a curator at the MET before this."   
  
"Do you still have a place in New York?" Monica enquired. Lindsay nodded.   
  
"Yeah, I'm making the payments on it until I can get back down there. I really miss it! I'm hoping to be done here by next year. I'm actually thinking about going to bartending school when I get out of here. I'm starting to believe that paleontology just wasn't right for me." At this, she briefly glanced at Ross, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. There was a bitterness in her look- a sternness that everyone picked up on all too well...especially Rachel.   
  
"No," Ross offered, with a definitely bite in his words "it wasn't." Again, an uncomfortable stillness fell over the conversation. Finally, sensing the tension, Chandler decided to speak up.   
  
"Well, that's about it for me. Lindsay, it was nice meeting you. Hon, I'm going to go check in. Ross...good luck with that, man." He patted him on the shoulder before taking his and Monica's suitcases over to the young man at the check-in counter. For the first time, Ross looked down at Rachel. The look on her face was a mixture between discomfort and...exhaustion. She looked confused and a little anxious, and it broke his heart. He draped his arm tightly around her shoulders and kissed her forehead, in hopes of making her feel a little less overlooked. It was now Lindsay's turn to look befuddled. Monica realized.   
  
"Oh, uh, Lindsay, Rachel is Ross' girlfriend." Rachel shot Monica a grave look, sustaining it long enough to meet Lindsay's eyes.   
  
"Finaceé." Ross nodded, tightening his grip on Rachel. Lindsay nodded in acknowledgement, politely extending her hand to Rachel, but unable to mask her very evident uneasiness.   
  
"It's nice to meet you. When's the wedding?"   
  
"Actually," Rachel answered, "it's tomorrow. We're getting married in the gazebo by the lake. Your father gave us the rooms and services at a discount rate." Though the conversation was now flowing more freely, the flagrant strain in the air didn't go unnoticed. Lindsay seemed outwardly impervious to Rachel's news of their wedding, but her smile was forced and there was an unshakable look of constipation in her face.  
  
"I'm sure the service will be lovely." She turned back to Monica, smiling genuinely and warmly, and patted her on the arm.   
  
"It was great seeing you again, Monica. I know it's kind of late, but when you wake up, if you're in the mood, I'd love to take a break and just catch up." Monica smiled and nodded in agreement.   
  
The four said goodnight when Lindsay resumed her position behind her desk. Phoebe and Joey had sat down on the love seat behind them during all of this and had fallen back asleep. Monica woke them up to tell them that the rooms were ready, and the group (minus Chandler) traveled through the maze of the hotel until they reached their suites on the eleventh floor.   
  
Lindsay's father, Mr. Underwood, had booked them adjoining suites, but had specifically reserved the Presidential Suite for Ross and Rachel. It was located at the very end of the hallway, and was easy to distinguish from the other rooms from it's gold-trimmed double doors.   
  
"Aw, no fair," Joey mumbled, from behind heavy eyelids, "they get the cool room!" Phoebe joined in on the protest.  
  
"Yeah, and even Monica and Chandler get a REGULAR suite! You and I got stuck with the reject rooms!" Monica rolled her eyes while Chandler fumbled with the key in the lock. Phoebe continued in her complaining.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, these are like the runt rooms! These are the rooms that, you know, like couldn't get enough milk when they were babies, so now they're just practically GIVEN away!" Once Chandler and Ross had gotten their respective doors unlocked and opened, the two couples entered their rooms, all but ignoring Phoebe and Joey's whining. Phoebe turned to Joey in disbelief.   
  
"You know, we are SO overlooked in this group! What the hell happened while we were asleep in that van? Did they form some kind of like collaboration against us?"   
  
"Collaboration?" Joey asked. Phoebe sighed, defeated.   
  
"Oh, who am I kidding? It's a good thing you're so pretty, Joey Tribbiani, or else you would have been fazed out a LONG time ago!" Phoebe opened her door and went inside her room, leaving Joey alone in the hallway.   
  
"I am pretty," he said to himself, smiling, before leaning up against the hallway wall and falling asleep.   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
Inside Ross and Rachel's room, a silent war was being wagered. They had not talked since they had entered the suite. Rachel had immediately sat her suitcase down on the bed and had begun unpacking. Ross had briefly contemplated taking a shower, but he knew that Rachel would want the bathtub soon, so he decided to stay out of her way.   
  
The room was truly immaculate, however. The entire far wall was made of glass, providing a breathtaking view out over the slopes and the lighted city below them. It consisted of a breakfast nook in the corner, two walk-in closets, a Jacuzzi in the bathroom, a personal refrigerator, a wet bar and a kind sized bed. Ross only feared that Rachel might be enjoying that bed alone tonight, if he didn't say something soon. Treat it like a Band-Aid, he thought to himself. One rip, and it's done.   
  
"I slept with her." Rachel stopped in her tracks, looking up from her open suitcase at Ross, who was standing in front of the dwarfing window. Her breath stopped in her throat. She was unable to do anything but stand there, her hands posed inquisitively out to the sides in a "what are you talking about?" sort of gesture. Ross didn't let it faze him, continuing with just as much confidence as he had used to utter those initial words.   
  
"That's what you were wondering, isn't it? If I had slept with her?" Rachel shook her head, almost as if she were attempting to shake his words from her memory. She stared at him for another moment, before going back to her unpacking. She decided to play dumb.  
  
"What are you talking about?"   
  
"What am I talking about?" Ross asked, his voice coming out a little more raised and sharp than he would have liked. This caught Rachel's attention again, who finally stopped unpacking all together, and focused her attention entirely on him.   
  
"Okay, so you slept with her. Big whoop. What'd you want, for me to throw you a little party?" Ross couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had just wanted to be mature and have an adult conversation about this entity that was so obviously having an affect on her.   
  
"No, what I WANT is to know why you haven't talked to him since you met her. It's not like you're the only person I've slept with. What's so different about Lindsay?" His comment about her having not been the only person he had slept with hadn't come out like he'd planned, and he could tell from the look on her face that it had stung a little. Though it had been true, the way in which he'd said it had come out biting and condescending. She crossed her arms over her chest, defensively.   
  
"I don't know, you tell me!"   
  
"Rachel, this is ridiculous! She's just some girl! I had this fling with her one summer, but it didn't work out! I didn't even remember that she EXISTED until we walked into that lobby. Why does she bother you so much?" Rachel knew that what he was saying was true, and she hated it, because it made her seem all that much more irrational. Her voice softened with her next words.   
  
"I don't know. She just seems...different." Rachel looked up, hopeful. There might have been tears in her eyes, but he couldn't quite tell. "Is she?" Ross exhaled, walking over to her. He didn't touch her yet, but just stood closer, personalizing the conversation more. He lowered his voice.   
  
"Tell me why you think she seems different, and I'll tell you if she is." They sat down on the edge of the bed together, letting their legs touch but still not consciously making any moves of comfort or assurance. Rachel shrugged.   
  
"I saw the way she looked at you, Ross. She hadn't seen you in, what, eight years? That wasn't the look of just any old summer fling. She looked...betrayed. She looked hurt." Rachel paused.  
  
"Is that all?" Ross asked. She shook her head.   
  
"No, I noticed something else." He waited for her to continue. Finally, he put a hand on her back, drawing her nearer to him.   
  
"What was it?" She turned to look at him. It was obvious now that she had tears in her eyes.  
  
"She's the complete opposite of me."  
  
"No she's not, Rach."  
  
"Yes she is, Ross! She's serious, and smart, and independent! I could barely tie my own shoe when I first came to the city, and she said she was making her own payments on an apartment that she wasn't even living in! I mean, she was a freaking paleontologist!" Ross small his hand in circles over her back.   
  
"Hey, listen to me, Rach. You ARE smart, and you've earned the independence that you have. Lindsay's family is rich- not all of the money that she spends is hers. And as for being serious, well, that's one of the reasons that it didn't work out. I'm too serious to be with someone else serious. That's partly why I love you! You're sweet and cute and spontaneous! Lindsay was none of those things, let me assure you." A small smile crept across Rachel's face, and she leaned her head lightly against Ross' shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment.   
  
"So, now you tell me...Was Lindsay different? Was she more than just a summer flame?" Ross was dead silent for a few moments, biting his lip and rolling possible answers over inside his head. Finally, he decided to just be honest.   
  
"Yes." Rachel tensed a little beneath his touch, having at least subconsciously known his answers before he'd spoken.   
  
"How?" she enquired. Ross took a deep breath before answering.   
  
"We were engaged."  
  
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End Chapter 12. Continued in Chapter 13. 


	13. Chapter 13

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Warning: This chapter is rated R for language and sexual situations, not appropriate for readers under 16. (I'm being reasonable...there's probably not a junior in high school alive who hasn't either seen people having sex or had sex themselves. Besides, it's nothing graphic.)   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
How do we ever REALLY know anyone? The people we work with. The people we went to school with. The people we grew up with. The people we live with. The people we love. How, really, are the personal lives and thoughts of these individuals anymore accessible or perceptible to us than the strangers we pass on the street every day? Worlds can be created and destroyed inside a human's heart and mind, without anyone but them ever knowing of their existences. Passions can burn, like flames licking at heated skin. Lovers can risk clandestine trysts, blanketed by the murky unknown of a miniscule thought. A thousand different lives, each the size and shape of a single raindrop, will erupt and disperse against cold pavement with every decision- every passing moment- in the secret, inner life of everyone you've ever loved. And you will never know.   
  
Pausing for light-years to consider this mind-boggling detail, Rachel arrived at the conclusion that she was but mere evidence that this theory was true. She was living it. As soon as those 3, simple words had passed his lips, steered by a tongue that had professed a love so profound as to weaken and render her breathless...she became living proof that no one will ever know anyone. Humans will continue to live in one another's presence, without ever sharing the entirety of themselves with anyone.   
  
To be fair, she had not asked for the entirety, but perhaps she had secretly expected his voluntary divulgence. Maybe that's what made the bits and pieces she was now receiving so much more horrible.   
  
Something almost equally horrifying, Rachel was rapidly discovering, was the fact that he had yet to utter a word since his bombshell-of-a-revelation. He simple sat, seemingly content to watch her unravel. His hands folded in his lap and his eyes fixated upon her face, he watched the impact that his words had on her. 'Damn sadist', she thought to herself. 'He's got to be fucking enjoying this.' Then, her anger turned to paranoia and a rushed dizziness overtook her.   
  
'Why isn't he saying anything? Doesn't he see how much this is killing me? How could he tell me something like that and then just sit there, happy to watch me wiggly and squirm?' She found herself growing increasingly uneasy at his silence. Then, the utmost bizarre feeling of claustrophobia sent her jumping from the bed and crossing the carpet towards the bathroom. This got him talking.   
  
"Rachel?" he asked, standing anxiously. He didn't move to chase her. He wasn't sure if it was because he intuitively knew that she would not accept his help or presence right now, or if it was because he was just too confused and scared to. When she didn't answer him, but instead slapped the bathroom door, a light switch went on inside his brain, triggering his legs to move. He stood outside the door.   
  
"Rachel? Are you okay?" He had not expected it, but a voice far from her usually soft, composed tones penetrated the wood.   
  
"Okay!? OKAY!? How the HELL could you even ask me that right now!?" Obviously she had outgrown the 'discreetly unhappy' phase, having matured to the 'how could you have done this to me' stage. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair and pressing himself up against the door, perhaps in some emblematic gesture, but perhaps just for the sake of his own comfort.   
  
"Rachel, you wanted to know the truth. So, I told you." He knew that he wasn't going to get out of this on a technicality. He was good when it came to finagling his way out of tight situations, but he was no Bill Clinton. No amount of sweet-talking or tongue-and-cheek was going to get him out of this.   
  
"Yeah? Well why couldn't you have told me, I don't know, maybe before we had been DATING for 4, goddamn years!?" This wasn't good, nor was it normal. He had never known Rachel to be this volatile or offensive.   
  
"Look, I told you she meant nothing to me! She was a summer fling; that was it!"  
  
"Yeah, well, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. It's not like being in love with someone is high on your lists of requirements before you propose." That was it. That was just one too many sarcastic quips over the quota. Impulsively, Ross hammered his fist against the wood, hitting it with enough force to crack the frame.   
  
"Dammit, Rachel! What the hell do you want from me?! I didn't marry her, did I?!" He paused, hoping this would provoke some sort of reaction from her. It did not. So, he continued, but at a slightly lowered tone and ferocity.   
  
"We were young, and rebellious, and thought we knew everything. Well, as it turned out, we didn't know anything. At least, I didn't" Maybe it was that hint of familiarity in the velvety caress of his tone. Maybe it was her genuine curiosity to the true implications of his last sentence. Either way, Ross heard the metallic clicking of the lock unset as the doorknob turned. When she emerged, her face was tear-streaked, but he knew instantly that they had been tears of anger, not sadness. The fact that he could recognize that so easily made him want to smile. He didn't, however.   
  
Her hair was in disarray, and her skin was bronzed and shimmering against the backdrop of halogen lights, as they radiated from the bathroom behind her. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. It was quite an inappropriate time to feel anything sexual towards her, but he couldn't control the primitive attraction that he was feeling for her, as she basked in an inextricable femininity that, he was certain, was unique to her.   
  
"What do you mean 'especially you'?" Curiosity had overcome her, after all. He shrugged, taking a deep intake of hair through his nose, and sitting back down on the side of the bed.   
  
"I mean she broke my heart." That had obviously not been the answer Rachel wanted to hear, and in seeing his, he continued quickly.   
  
"Not in the same way you could break my heart. Not because I loved her." Rachel raised her glance to meet his, having found that statement to be perplexing, yet intriguing.   
  
"If you don't love someone, they can't break your heart, Ross," Rachel stated, matter-of-factly. He shook her head.   
  
"Not true. She broke my heart, because..." it was obvious that he was searching for the right words. He had never been one for eloquence, but he needed to explain this perfectly if he wanted it to make sense to her. He decided to start again.  
  
"I had all of these disillusionments, Rachel. I was young, and naive, and such a sickening romantic. I believed all of the movies, all of the books, all of the song lyrics. I was so ready for it, Rachel. I wanted to taste it so badly, and I was so sure that, when I DID fall in love...it was going to be the biggest fairytale you'd ever heard." She moved slowly but deliberately over to where he was sitting on the bed.   
  
"You said she broke your heart." She posed it as a statement, but he knew better. It was a question. He nodded.  
  
"She did. She showed me that it just wasn't true. You can't make something out of nothing. You can't force love. No matter HOW badly you want it...no matter what you'd sacrifice to have it...you can't create it where it doesn't exist. In meeting her, I discovered that, when dealing in love, you have absolutely no control over when or where it happens. That scared me. It striped me of all my idealistic, romantic values...and it broke my heart."   
  
They were quiet for a long while. There was really nothing left for him to say, and there was nothing appropriate for her. So, they said nothing. Finally, something occurred to Rachel. Her voice cracked when she asked the question, in that way voices tend to do from a combination of lack of use and tear-strain.   
  
"Did Monica ever know?" Ross shook his head, simply.   
  
"No. We never told her. We decided it would be better not to, and really, there was no point. We met, and a month later, I gave her a ring. She kept it for 2 weeks before giving it back. At the end of the 2 months, I went back to NYU...and I hadn't seen her since, before tonight. But, if nothing else, ONE good thing did come from it." Rachel turned her head to look at him.   
  
"What's that?"   
  
"A greater respect for the loves that DO pass us by." He said it with a paradoxes mixture of simplicity and grandeur that only he could pull off. She smiled, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. For the first time since they'd pulled into the hotel, he felt the heated confidence that usually proceeded their kisses, and decided not to squander it. Leaning into her, he closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of her lips against his. When they pulled away, she smiled and opened her eyes.   
  
"So," he began, "you still mad at me?" The boyishness of his statement was enough to make her laugh out loud.   
  
"Oh, Ross, I was never MAD at you." He gave her a doubtful look.  
  
"Okay, well, maybe I was a little mad at you. Mostly, though, I just heard the word 'engaged', and I immediately got this image of you and some other woman in this house together, raising a family."   
  
"You do realize that being engaged and married are two different things, right?" They both smiled.   
  
"Well, you would know." This joke hadn't been made with the same underlying bitterness that the last had, so it didn't bother him. He stared at her for a few moments, not feeling so guilty now about being overwhelmingly attracted to her.   
  
"What is it?" she asked.   
  
"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head. "You are just...amazingly beautiful." She smiled from ear to ear, blushing slightly, which was an unusual reaction for her. He put his hand on her thigh, squeezing it affectionately.  
  
"No, really. I don't think you understand exactly what I mean when I say that. The first time I ever saw you, when we were in high school, it honestly felt, to me, like time had just stopped. I mean, I saw you as, literally, this breathtaking girl. And now...well, my feelings for you have changed, obviously. It's no longer about some unrequited, obsessive admiration. I have a genuine respect for you; a mutual, genuine love." Rachel smiled, the light catching and reflective off of the beginning of a tear that was formulating in the corner of her eye. He licked his lips before he continued.   
  
"But even now, after all this time..." he shrugged, smiling as if even he was amazed at what he was about to say, "you still manage to take my breath away. Sometimes, I still see you as that beautiful, unattainable, girl-next-door, high school goddess."   
  
Rachel's demeanor turned swiftly from touched to aroused. Ross didn't say things like that often. She knew he thought them. She could tell by the way he'd hungrily stare at her from across a crowded room, or the delicate yet intensified way in which he'd touch her, when no one else was around. She knew he was attracted to her, but his methods in letting her know were subtle, which was nice, but made the verbal recognitions that much more enticing.   
  
She scooted nearer to him on top of the mattress, sliding her hands up his thighs, to the bottom of where his shirt clung to his stomach. In one, hurried motion, she pulled the fabric up and over his head, tousling his hair along the way. This sudden action caught him obviously off-guard, but in a pleasant way, and he showed no objections when she went for the metal teeth of his zipper.  
  
Before things escalated too much more, he leaned into her, catching her mouth with his. He noticed immediately how aggressive she was being in all of this, and how suddenly her interest had been captivated. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that she was taking revenge for some abstract, metaphorical loss that she had experienced over Lindsay. She was attempting to regain something that had never been lost to her. Softly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, breaking their starving kiss.   
  
"Rachel..." he managed, in a whimpered plea. He swallowed. "You don't have to prove anything to me." She seemed frustrated, both with the abrupt halt of their actions, and the riddle in his statement.   
  
"What are you talking about?"   
  
"I mean, nothing's different. This didn't change anything." She still seemed confused. They were both struggling to catch their breaths.   
  
"Do you not want to?" she asked, shyly. He hated that. She was never shy about things like these, and he hated that his ill-timed, vague allusions had made her that way. She had no reason to ever be shy or unsure around him.   
  
"No! Rachel...sweety...that's not-" he cut himself off, realizing that the moment was affectively gone. He fell back against the mattress in frustration. Rubbing his temple, he searched for the words. He had been doing that a lot, lately. Finally, he sat back up.   
  
"Look, Rach, you NEVER have to worry about me 'not wanting to do it', okay? I assure you, that will never be a problem." This caused her to smile a little; blushing in a small victory. He rubbed his fingers up and down her arm.   
  
"I just didn't want anything to happen for the wrong reasons. You seemed rushed- like you were afraid you were going to lose me. That's not, and never WAS the case, though, sweety. I assure you, when tomorrow comes around, you are still the ONLY person I want to walk down that aisle with." She nodded. Ross realized that she had not said anything in a very long while.   
  
"So, are you okay? I mean...are things okay, now?" She smiled again, for the countless time that night, at the naivety and boyishness of his charm. He was always so worried about her, she realized. If he had it his way, she would probably never be upset or uncertain about anything, ever again. She nodded to reassure him.   
  
"Yes, everything is wonderful. It's fine. But, Ross..." She narrowed her eyes on him, running her tongue along the inside of her lips.  
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Can we continue?" A smile crept across his face, starting in his eyes, like it always had. He nodded, but she was already moving herself onto his lap. He recaptured her lips, moving his hands over her back before pulling her shirt up over her head. Their touch and kiss was still intensified, but in a way that was less about victory and more about surrender.   
  
They made love hurriedly, that first time; rushing through with an urgency that could only be justified by the brilliancy of it's ending. They needed that absolution- that freedom- that was unique to the feeling of being on the inside the other. In the middle of the night, he awoke her with a series of soft kisses on her neck. They made love a second time, but slowly, in an unending dreaminess.   
  
When it was over, she crawled on top of him, resting her head directly above his heart. In that moment, as she felt his hands tracing circles against her lower back, she found that absolution that they had so desperately been searching for. Maybe she even found it for the both of them, that night. It occurred to her, though, that the ghosts of women who had once lived inside his heart had long sense vanished, and if it were not for her, there would be only a sad grayness left. She was the one who was staying for good, and all of his possible pasts were but lanterns that marked their path together with experience and wisdom. Those women would never know the value of their work on him, and how beautiful a creature they had made him into. They had woven a blanket that's comfort would only ever be felt by her and Ross, and that made her sad. She cried quietly for those women that night, but when she finally succumbed to sleep, a knowing smile sealed her lips in acceptance.   
  
End Chapter 13. To Be Continued In Chapter 14. 


	14. Chapter 14

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: R  
  
Warning: This chapter is rated R for sexual situations. I know the last chapter was rated R, as well, but that was really just more of a precautionary. As notified in one or two of the reviews, it probably wasn't ACTUALLY necessary for me to rate it as such. However, this chapter is definitely going to be a legitimate R. Sorry if this sort of thing offends you, but it's their wedding night. What do you really expect? :-) Besides, it's tasteful. Tasteful, tasteful, tasteful. I'm all about being tasteful.   
  
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A soft beam of sunshine crept in through the open window, flirting it's way past the swaying sheer curtains, and coming to rest on the pair of lovers who were sleeping soundly in their nest of blankets and feathery pillows. It was not the light that woke Rachel, however. It was the light breeze that accompanied it.   
  
She got up from the bed, crossing the plush carpet to the window and closing it tightly. When she came back to the bed, Ross had already turned in his sleep and was now clasping a pillow to his chest that he must have been dreaming was her. She placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss on his shoulder, ruffling his hair.   
  
"Wake up, Sweety." He moaned and turned to look up at her, shielding his eyes from the sunshine that was still pouring in from the now closed window. After he collected his thoughts and realized that it was Rachel who he was looking at, he shook his head in protest to her request and threw both of his arms around her legs.  
  
"Just 5 more minutes," he assured her, giving her ass a playful squeeze and kissing her stomach before turning back over and pulling a pillow over his head. She rolled her eyes and headed for the shower, murmuring something to herself about him still being a 17-year-old boy at heart.   
  
After showering, she put on a set of pink underwear and wrapped the towel around her head, making her way back into the bedroom to find her make-up case. As expected, she found that Ross had yet to move from his position in the bed. She decided not to turn the light on, because she remembered how much she despised it when he did that in order to wake her up, so she instead opted for throwing a pillow at his head.   
  
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," she taunted, unzipping her suitcase and retrieving her make-up bag, "Get up! We have to be downstairs in like 20 minutes." He finally threw back the covers, knowing that the longer he stood in bed, the harder it was going to be to get up. After his feet hit the floor, though, and he discovered what she clad in, he mentally reprimanded himself for not getting up and noticing sooner. She was standing in front of the mirror on the dresser, meticulously applying eye-liner with her hair thrown up in a damp, messy bun and wearing only her underwear. Damn their lunch date with the guys, he thought.   
  
"What time is it?" he asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her stomach, kissing her neck. He rested his chin on her shoulder, looking at their reflection in the mirror.   
  
"11:30. We're meeting them at 11:45, which means that you've you wasted 5 of your 20 minutes talking to me," she teased, turning to give him a quick peck on the cheek to show that she was just playing with him. "So hurry up and go shower!" She smacked his ass as he turned to head for the shower. So nice, she thought, smiling to herself.   
  
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At lunch, everyone discussed how the wedding was going to play out. Naturally, Monica took over with most of the planning details. She seemed to know more about what was going on then even Ross and Rachel.   
  
"Okay," she began," it's all worked out. I've been up since about 7 this morning, talking to people and setting it all up. You know, if you want something done, you really just have to do it yourself! The resort's live-in decorator is making the flower arrangements and setting up the gazebo. The caterers are assembling one table of appetizers- nothing too fancy. That's what you wanted, right?" Ross and Rachel were both a little confused and stunned at all of the information Monica was throwing at them.   
  
"Uh, yes, right. Nothing too fancy," Ross finally answered.   
  
"Alright, good," she continued. "It's pretty convenient, actually, because there's a priest staying at the hotel who agreed to do the ceremony. It's going to start at 5:30 because it gets dark here around 6, so that should be just enough time to perform the service before nighttime. Now, there's only enough room in the gazebo to seat 10 people in those white, wooden fold-out chairs. That shouldn't be a problem, though, because it's really just the 4 of us who are going to be watching, plus Mr. & Mrs. Ferrar and Lindsay." Ross eyed Rachel at the mention of Lindsay, but was surprised when she was seemingly unaffected.   
  
"Monica?" Rachel asked, sounding a little hopeful.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"This all sounds really great, and thank you so much for doing all of those for us, but..." Monica knew instantly what was bothering her best friend.   
  
"You want a wedding dress, don't you?" Rachel nodded, smiling almost shamefully in the fact that she had predictably given in and hadn't been able to stick to her initial request for a "casual wedding". Monica smiled back at her.   
  
"I know, Sweety. I figured you would feel that way, so I packed a little something for you. Come on, you can come try it on. I bought some jewelry, too." Touched, Rachel found that tears were welling up in her eyes.   
  
"Monica, that's so sweet! I can't believe you did that! How can I repay you for something like this?" Monica didn't skip a beat.   
  
"With something to the tune of, oh say, $500?"   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
The girls all went to Monica and Chandler's room to help Rachel try on the dress and jewelry and to talk about the wedding, while the guys hung out in Ross and Rachel's room because it had the big-screen TV. When Monica pulled out the classic corset wedding dress, both Phoebe and Rachel gasped.   
  
"Oh my GOD, Monica, it's gorgeous! I can't believe I get to wear this! This must have been a fortune!" Monica shook her head, handing the dress by it's hanger to Rachel, who was still starting admiringly at it. It was very simple, but extraordinarily elegant.  
  
"No, actually! I ordered it online from a metrofashion site. It was only about $80, which was really lucky, since it was discounted down from $200. I couldn't decide between strapless or off-the-shoulder, but I thought you'd look better in the strapless. I like the fact that it's made from satin!" Rachel just shook her head in disbelief. The dress was truly gorgeous. She couldn't believe that she had nearly passed up getting married in such a beautiful dress.   
  
(Author's Note: If you want to see the dress that I modeled Rachel's after, it's here: http://store4.yimg.com/I/metrofashion-formal_1785_651599)  
  
"The jewelry isn't much- it's just a necklace- but it was an impulse buy when I was out shopping for the dress. It was just so pretty, I couldn't pass it up." Monica came back from the bathroom to reveal a custom, hand-beaded, burgundy and gold threaded choker.   
  
"I thought it would contrast really well against the all-white dress," Monica said calmly, handing the necklace over to Rachel.   
  
(Author's Note: If you want to see the necklace that I modeled Rachel's after, it's here: http://www.needlewoman.com/wedding_necklace_gold.htm)   
  
"Oh, that's gorgeous," Phoebe chimed in. "So, you have two new things! Now, we just need to find you something old, blue, and barrowed and we can kill two squirrels with one tire!" Rachel and Monica stared at their quirky friend, but just laughed instead of asking questions.   
  
"Oh, I've got that covered!" Monica delved into her suitcase, revealing a light blue garter.   
  
"I bought this a while ago to wear whenever I got married, but you can use it tonight. It's old, blue AND borrowed! I know the light blue doesn't really go with the necklace, but it's so efficient!" Rachel nodded and smiled as she took the garter from Monica.   
  
"I don't care that it doesn't match. Aw, honey, thank you so much!" The three girls hugged, taking a moment to really consider that fact that one of them was about to get married. When they pulled away, they all had tears in their eyes.  
  
"Oh my God, Rach, do you realize we're about to be sisters-in-law? I mean, this is really happening! You're really marrying Ross! You're marrying my brother!" Rachel nodded, sighing in disbelief herself. She shrugged exaggeratedly.   
  
"I know! What can I say? I love him...I love him so much, you guys." Monica and Phoebe nodded knowingly.   
  
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In the room adjacent to Monica and Chandler's, the guys were watching a football game and drinking beer.   
  
"So," Joey piped up, as soon as half-time had started, "today's the big day, huh Ross?" Ross nodded, taking a sip of his beer.   
  
"Yup, it sure is. God, can you believe it? I mean, it's RACHEL! Who would have thought that I'd be marrying Rachel in a THOUSAND years!"   
  
"Not me," Joey answered honestly. "She's WAY hotter than you, man! I'd keep an eye on her, if I were you!" Ross disregarded Joey's statement, knowing that he meant well.   
  
"I don't know, I always kind of knew you two would end up together," Chandler answered, breaking his stream of silence. Ross looked inquisitively at him.   
  
"Really? Even back in college?" Chandler nodded, drinking his beer. Ross looked doubtful, but intrigued.   
  
"Oh, come on, Rachel didn't even know that I existed in high school and college. You're telling me that you actually believed we'd eventually be getting MARRIED?" Chandler shrugged, not understand what the big deal was.   
  
"Well, yeah! I don't think you remember how much you liked her, man. I mean, you talked about how hot she was and everything, but it was more than that. I could tell that you really cared about her. You really loved her. For you to stick with her for that long, even after she wouldn't give you the time of day...that says a lot." Ross was surprisingly touched by Chandler's comment, having never known that he had always possessed so much faith in him.   
  
"Well thanks, man! I never knew you felt that way. Maybe I shouldn't have felt like such a loser for all those years!" Taking a sip of his beer and turning his attention back to the television, Chandler answered monotonously.   
  
"No, you were definitely a loser."   
  
"Hey, speaking of 'all those years', what took you so long to propose?" Joey asked from his position on the big leather chair. Ross shook his head, obviously a little embarrassed.   
  
"I don't know, I've asked myself that before. On our one-year anniversary, I started thinking about proposing. I mean, I knew for sure from the first time I kissed her that I could never be with anybody else, but I REALLY started thinking about it after the first year."  
  
"So," Joey urged, "what stopped you from doing it?"   
  
"Sometimes I think it was because I thought she might have said 'no'. Other times, I think it was because I was maybe subconsciously scarred from the whole Carol thing. Then, sometimes I think it was because I didn't think I was good enough for her. It's like I felt guilty for even being with her. I don't know...whatever it was, I realized while we were at the beach that no reason would ever be good enough to justify us not being together forever."  
  
"Wow," Joey replied, "what changed your mind?" Ross thought about this question for a long moment, taking a swig from his beer.   
  
"I think it was the night of our anniversary, when we were laying out on the beach. She was telling me all of these things about her childhood- what she had been afraid of, what had made her sad, what her dreams had been- and I realized that I never wanted her to stop talking. I never wanted to stop knowing what she was feeling. I wanted- needed- to know everything she had ever felt, because I wanted to be the one to protect her from all of those things that had scared her and I wanted to be the one to give her all of those things she had dreamed of. I wanted to save her, which I know sounds really stupid, but I felt this really bizarre feeling of protectiveness over her that I just knew was irreversible- I knew I would never stop feeling it. I didn't want to."  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
At around 4:30 pm, the girls all gathered in Monica and Chandler's room to help Rachel get dressed. Monica picked out a very subtle, shimmery golden eye-shadow to match the gold embroidery on the necklace. They ended up deciding on a more natural hairstyle, putting her hair up in a fixed bun with a few strands hanging down to frame her face. The white satin corset fit her perfectly, almost glowing with cleanliness against the deep tan of her skin. Monica cracked a "like a virgin" joke, at which Rachel couldn't help but laugh.   
  
In Ross and Rachel's room, Ross had been in a bit of a panic. Realizing that Rachel now had an actual wedding dress, he felt that he should wear something more formal than the button-up dress shirt and black slacks that he had originally planned on. Fortunately, Chandler ran down to the lobby and asked around, finally succeeding in finding a willing owner of a tux who was about Ross' size. It came with a burgundy vest, which Ross wouldn't know until the ceremony matched Rachel's necklace. He gelled his hair up in the front, the way he knew she liked. Separately, the girls and the guys walked down to the gazebo at around exactly 5:15. The sight that they were met with, however, almost took their breath away.   
  
The white gazebo was dressed with various displays of white and purple lilies, and laced with rich green vines. Arrangements of a few miscellaneous yellow and pink flowers somehow worked their way in, too. Candles were placed along the handrails, illuminating the simi-circle as the sun sank into the distance. The priest was already situated at the front. It was picture perfect.   
  
When Ross and Rachel saw each other for the first time, the world around them slowed down. No one else, nor had they ever, existed. They were fully aware of the journey they were about to embark upon, and they were at the water's edge, eager to jump in. When everyone was seated, and the wedding march was carried by wind into the ears of all the lookers on, it was Ross who walked her down the aisle. It was not meant to be metaphorical, but if it had been, it could have been argued that no other man in the world (besides her father) was more fit to give her away than him. As he had always dreamt, he was saving her.   
  
The vows were short, and led by the priest. Everything that they could have ever said to each other had already been said, and they both knew it all. There were no more words. Through it all, they stared contented and peacefully into each others' eyes, repeating the appropriate words, but knowing all the while that they weren't enough to express everything they were feeling. The real vows- the ones that mattered- were communicated silently, under the radar of all the guests.   
  
During it all, Rachel had momentarily broken her eye-lock with Ross and had peered out into the audience. Lindsay had been there, as expected, but she was somehow strangely different to Rachel. She was no longer the stern, threatening woman that she had initially been. She was a girl- a very sad girl, whose regret was painfully obvious in her eyes and face. Rachel looked back at Ross, tearing her eyes away from the girl who'd lost it all so that she could have it.   
  
It was over before they knew it, but it was easy to lose track of time when it no longer existed for them. They walked back to the lodge in a haze, hand-in-hand with their feet never touching the ground. The other 4 stayed behind, allowing them their time together and knowing that it was useless to try and talk to them until tomorrow. For them, the other 4 did not even exist. What had just happened had changed their lives forever, and for a short while, Ross and Rachel would allow themselves the gift of being the only ones to fully the implications of that.   
  
When they got back to their room, they did not speak. They had not spoken since before the ceremony. They had not spoken since before they'd seen each other that evening. Not only were there no words, but they did not need them. They found themselves functioning fully well without them.   
  
Ross pulled at the zipper of her dress, letting it fall to the floor and finding her standing before him in nothing but the garter and necklace. She smiled.   
  
"Sorry they don't match." He shook her his, chuckling silently. He had been somewhat glad that she had said something before they continued. He wanted to know that they weren't in such a haze that they couldn't reap the full benefits from or have a completely understanding for what was about to happen. He stepped to her, gently pulling the loose tie from her hair and watching the thickness of her hair fall around her shoulders and into her eyes. God, never cover her eyes up, he thought. Don't ever stop looking at her eyes.   
  
Somehow, she undressed him before they even hit the mattress. He crawled up the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. She was leaning against the headboard, her golden brown hair falling freely about her shoulders and her skin bathed in a warm light that only accentuated the natural, bronzed Earthy glow that seemed to permanently radiate from her body. Her skin looked flawless to him, and so smooth that he'd be surprised to feel anything at all upon touching her. Though she was completely naked, leaving all of herself revealed to him, he was transfixed by her eyes. Their usual sparkling shimmer was juxtaposed with a sort of smokiness, making her seem even more elegant and mysterious than usual. Mysterious she was not, however, and that was what made her so beautiful to him in that moment. She was keeping none of herself from him. Everything she was feeling was all laid about before him, and she trusted him implicitly with all of it.   
  
She smiled, and it was over. With that simple gesture, they had begun. Call it what you will, but it was birthed that night from the small dimples that formed on her cheeks when she grinned at him, and it would not end until that overwhelming neediness and excitement had lulled them both into a deep slumber.   
  
Neediness. That was a good word for it, he decided. It was the closest thing to familiar that he could recognize when he saw her sitting there before him. An irresistible need to be as far inside her as possible overtook him, weakening him to a devastating state. If only she knew, he thought. If only she knew how entirely she could break him. If only she knew how weak and helpless she made him feel- how overbearing and unbelievable her beauty was to him. If only she knew how badly he felt that he needed her sometimes- this time being the grandfather of all it's predecessors- and if only she knew how ridiculously perfect she was. Perfect.   
  
Time slowed down for an achingly long moment, as he positioned himself over top of her and dipped his lips to the curve of her neck. Then, with a jolting pressure, it sped up to twice it's normal speed, as if in an attempt at regaining that moment that it had lost. He felt his head spin as his tongue slid softly over her salty skin, brushing it with every kiss. He felt her hands run freely over his back, forging a trail of goosebumps and icy-hot twinges. They stopped at his waist, gripping and massaging his sides. He stopped his ministrations, pulling away to look her in the eye. Her eyes had been shut, but opened suddenly, almost instinctively.   
  
"Mmmm, you smell nice," he said, smiling goofily but more sweetly than he would ever know. She giggled at this, squeezing his sides. Satisfied with this response, he returned to his work, but this time began moving slowly up her neck to her jaw and cheek. Finally, he found her lips, and the onslaught of deprived passion that ensued was equivocal to that of a starving man's last meal. Their kiss was bruising, but neither would notice until days later, when the shock and utopianism of this encounter would finally wear off.   
  
He shifted his weight, pulling himself completely on top of her. He supported himself evenly on his elbows, though, as to not suffocate her. He had not noticed immediately, but her hands were suddenly everywhere- exploring the contracting muscles of his back, resting over the curve of his ass or in the valley of his lower back, or tangled in his hair. Their encounter, thus far, was reminding her of the countless high school weekends spent in back-seats, but this excited her rather than disappointed. When the term "making out" rushed into the forefront of her mind, she couldn't help but giggle.   
  
"Uh oh," he lamented, pulling away from her lips as she laughed. "This feel familiar."  
  
"No, no, it's nothing like that! It's just that, for some reason, this reminded me of high school. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt 16 again." Ross pondered this for a moment.   
  
"Is that a good thing?" She smiled.   
  
"In this case, yes." Upon hearing this, he wasted no time in getting back to their previous actions. Only this time, there seemed to be a heightened zeal about their caresses and kisses- like the transition from nibbling to biting, or tickling to scratching. It was a faint bolster of passion, but it was undoubtedly present. It was the type of dizzy intensity that made her subconsciously bend her knees, cradling him more securely in between her legs. When she squeezed her thighs, pressing them softly into his sides, he felt a familiar constriction in his lungs and a tightening that seemed to be unique reactions to only her touch. He moaned deeply into the open-mouthed kiss that they had been dragging out so resolutely.   
  
"What is it?" she asked, in that adorable breathy tone that she often used when making love. He tucked a strand of silky golden hair behind her ear.   
  
"I just need- I can't remember where I put the-" He couldn't seem to figure out how to word the sentence, but she understood. This mangled, jigsaw puzzle of a conversation took place before nearly every encounter they had ever had. Usually, it resulted in him pulling his body weightily from the bed and leaving her momentarily cold and empty so that he could retrieve the condom. This time, however, when he heaved his weight upward and moved to throw back the sheet, she wrapped her legs and arms impedingly around his body. This startled him, but when he searched her eyes for an answer, all he could find was a bashful and hazy plead to stay. And so he did.   
  
"It'll be okay," he reassured her between soft kisses and nose rubs. He knew that, while some primitive thing inside her refused his leaving the bed, she was also reluctant to continue without that safety net that had always been present. She was scared. He kissed her eyes, summoning them to open.   
  
"Hey," he whispered, "I can pull out if you want." She shook her head. It was a simple response, but it was weighed down with all of the explanations in the world. She smoothed her hands over his shoulder blades, kissing him there.   
  
"No...no, don't do that."   
  
"Are you sure?" She swallowed, nodding her head firmly. He knew that she was afraid, and that made him feel slightly disgusting. He craved the feeling of being inside her without limitations or barriers. During their 4 years together, he had never experienced that with her. She had not always been on birth control, and by the time she was, they were so accustomed to it that they had just never bothered to stop. It had become routine, so the thought of being inside her without it now made his heart flutter in anticipation and excitement. He still felt selfish, though, knowing the anxiety and conflict that it was stirring inside her. It was different for girls.   
  
"I just want you to be happy," he said, finding that even he was unsure as to what he meant. He had meant to say "comfortable" or even "satisfied". Maybe those things hadn't been what he really meant, after all. He wanted her to be happy.   
  
"I am," she stated simply, stroking his biceps and smiling into their next kiss. He let a hand roam down her body, still supporting his weight with the other. His fingers moved swiftly between the valley of her breasts and across the flat plane of her stomach. When it dipped down to the inevitable towards which it had been traveling all along, she arched her hips up into his hand.   
  
Rarely had she been this eager, but it sent a numbed thrill of empowerment throughout his body. For as long as he could remember, she had been that unattainable entity that had always remained just barley out of reach. Even after she was his, he still looked up to her with a sense of wonderment in the fact that she was allowing him to be with her. Now, it seemed that the roles had changed, and he thrived off of it. This time was inexplicably different from the hundreds that had gone before it. Maybe it was the feeling of rebirth that came from newlywed sex.   
  
She took his hand in hers, in that way that he loved, and pulled it towards herself as she shifted her hips forward to meet him. He delved in and out of her, all the while mesmerized by the way her face looked as the moonlight danced across her skin, and the entreating moans that were escaping her lips. God, her lips. He rediscovered them every few minutes. That had always been their way- his way. He would forget them momentarily, having devoted his attention elsewhere, but he always came back. He would never, in a million years, attempt describing those lips. Never.   
  
"Ross- I need- please." Something else that he loved about her, and that never ceased to make him smile, was the way that she could never form complete sentences while making love. He always knew exactly what she meant, though.   
  
He nodded, taking her lower lip between his teeth. With the most impossible level of careful ease, considering how fast his blood was pumping and how hard his heart was beating, he slid himself completely inside her.   
  
Immediately, a dozen imaged bombarded his brain. This was something that he had trained himself to do, in hopes of temporarily taking his mind off of the impossible amount of pleasure and preventing any embarrassment for himself. The imagines seemed random, but he was sure that they had some relevance. They came to him in broken fragments of glass- like dreams that end one moment before you wake, and tauntingly teeter at the edge of your perception, just out of your consciousness' reach. An intersection in the middle of the night, glazed with rain and lonely because it's light continues to rotate, even in the absence of cars. A mirror, shattered on a limestone floor. The Central Perk couch, 1,000 years from forever ago, torn and ripped to shreds. Her face. It always came back to her face. She was always the last imagine in the cycle, and it was not until that moment that he realized it was because he was always opening his eyes.   
  
Upon opening his eyes, he was taken aback by how small she was. Perhaps it was because, for that split second after one opens his eyes, he is completely unbiased to everything around him. His eyes have not yet had time to focus and reiterate into his mind what he wants to be seeing. Those first imagines after opening his eyes were the most honest, and honesty at that moment was telling him that she was tiny. He saw the look of twisted anguish on her face, and was horrified at the thought that he might actually be causing her pain.   
  
"Am I hurting you?" he asked. He almost chuckled. That was generally something asked during the first time, which this was definitely not. He had only ever asked one girl that before, and that was Carol, upon losing her virginity to him. Asking it now, to Rachel, was surreal to say the least. She felt the displacement of the question, too, and smiled while letting out a whispered moan.   
  
"No, Sweety. You're fine...I'm fine." He nodded, taking her answer as a sign, and picking up the pace at which he entered and exited her. She wrapped her legs more tightly around his waist, and he moved his hands to her thighs, raising up on his knees. He saw her fists clench tightly at the white, starched bed sheets. Her breathing and moaning increased, encouraging him more. It was a vicious cycle, and if it was not slowed, it would undoubtedly bring them to a premature end.   
  
Deciding that the angle was too much, too soon, he lowered himself back down and supported his weight on bent elbows that he placed on either side of her head. He slowed the pace, moderating it and keeping in time with the kisses that he placed along her jaw and neck. She gripped his arms, then his shoulders, then slid her hands down his back, resting them finally at his waist. She couldn't believe how out of breath she was, nor how intense and fast all of this had been. That was what she wanted, though.   
  
His motions were deep but slow, with a similar passion as would be expected from a Sunday afternoon encounter on the hardwood floor of an unfurnished, high-rise apartment. Somewhere along the way, it had begun raining. The steady beating of the raindrops against the window pane behind the bed reminded him of that deserted stoplight. He felt sad, but only until he realized that she was beneath him, and that he was all around her. He betrayed that stoplight with one fiery kiss to her lips, but he could not have cared less. Slowly, it faded from his mind, along with all of it's accompanying images. As they made their way back down the same dirt road from which they'd come, the feeling of utopian bliss that they'd been subsiding built rapidly and ferociously inside of him. With a few even strokes, he knew that it would be over soon.   
  
"I can't-" she started, struggling for breath. "Not this way..." He didn't think that she was done speaking, but it didn't matter, because they were running a futile footrace against Father Time, and he needed her to happy before himself. That had been part of the pact that they'd forged that day- putting her before himself- and he fully intended to apply it to all aspects of their life together, starting now.   
  
He rolled them over, scooting up the length of the bed on his back with her straddling his waist. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw her grasp the headboard of the bed, and that's when most of everything went to black. He heard her breath, hard and deep above him. He heard the repetition of the wooden bed frame taping rhythmically against the wall, and he almost hoped that no one was occupying the room beside theirs, until he realized that he didn't really care at all. He opened his eyes to see that his hands were caressing her sides and thighs, but as suspected, her skin was so soft that he could barely feel it. He saw in tones of navy and gray, with the occasional spark of silver, provoked by a moan or a whispered "I love you".   
  
"Better?" he somehow managed. She nodded, keeping her eyes sealed tightly shut, and concentrating on something that would forever remain unknown to him. Whatever her stoplight was...  
  
Her hips rocked forwards and backwards, up and down, and he just held on tightly and tried to keep up. Before he knew it, he heard the telltale hitch in her breath, followed shortly by a smothered scream. She collapsed on top of him, their breathing hard and struggling. He ran his hands up and down her sides until they came to rest on her lower back and hips. He looked into the still obscurity of the room, sure that the world around them must be different now. He was grounded and secretly comforted in finding that it was not.   
  
"Sweety," he whispered. It was not really a question, but more of an inquisition as to whether she was still awake. She had not moved since it had ended. She answered him by moving her right hand up to his neck and running her fingernails lightly over his skin there. He smiled, fitting her more comfortably and tightly to his side. He kissed her forehead, knowing that they would not speak for the rest of the night, but also knowing that it was enough for them to just lay in silence.   
  
With one hand and leg draped over his body, and her head laying on his chest, she drifted off to a peaceful slumber- one that could only be brought on by the calming lullaby of a new husband's rhythmic breathing.   
  
End Chapter 14. Continued In Chapter 15. 


	15. Chapter 15

Title: The Open Road  
  
Author: Kaitlyn  
  
Summary: "I've got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and baby you got me."  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
This will be the last chapter of "The Open Road" series.  
  
The song "Glycerine" is by Bush. "And So It Goes" is by Billy Joel. Finally, "Patience" is by Guns N Roses.  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
When he awoke, the rain was just beginning to die off. It tapped pleading at the pane, begging not to be forgotten after it's final drops were expelled from the heavens. The window was cracked a bit, letting in just enough of the outside stale air to hint at a day drowsy with damp grayness. Ross liked days like that, though. Besides, nothing could discourage him once he'd taken one look down at the curious blonde being sleeping soundly against his chest.   
  
Her face was relaxed, and in a moment, he saw a glimpse of something wise beyond her years that might one day exist in her. It enveloped her in a soft glow before escaping her body on the breeze coming in from that proverbial cracked window. It comforted him, seeing her like that. Even if it was just for an instant, it allowed him a keyhole into the future- a glance into the fate that'd been intended for him since that first chance meeting with his sister's beautiful best friend.   
  
He got up naked, like he'd done a thousand times before. He padded across the plush, beige carpet to the coffee pot. He stood, sipping his coffee, in front of the floor-to-ceiling window that faced the resort town below. He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it and taking a deep intake of air through his nose. All of these pedestrian, mundane acts that he'd performed a thousand times before seemed ripened that morning.   
  
"Mmmm, morning," he heard her whisper from the bed. He looked over at her and smiled, setting his mug down on the dresser and returning to lay beside her again. He leaned over and rested on the bed on his stomach, still keeping both feel on the floor. She smiled, caressing his stubbly cheek with the back of hand and kissing him softly. He tasted like coffee and something vague that belonged only to him. And to her.   
  
"We have to leave eventually, don't we?" he asked, kissing her neck and letting his fingers move across her stomach. She nodded, ruffling his hair with one hand and placing the other atop his on her stomach.   
  
"We should go talk to them. We haven't even seen them since the wedding." The way she said wedding, so velvety and profound, made his stomach tighten in disbelief. Wedding. Married. Wife. His.   
  
"You're right. Now, if only there were a way of doing that without YOU getting dressed..." he teased, now crawling into the bed completely. He curled up beside her, the sheets and comforter bunched loosely at their waists and their legs intertwined. Before he had a chance to make much of a move, though, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out of the bed.   
  
"No, no, come one. We'll take a shower and then go see if Chandler and Monica are awake. We have to check out by noon, anyway." He gave in, following her eager to the bathroom.   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
The other four sat at a long breakfast table, waiting for Ross and Rachel to make their debut appearance as husband and wife. They'd been there for a little over half an hour, speculating about what was holding them up and discussing the previous night's ceremony.   
  
"Rachel called us like 45 minutes ago and said they'd be down in a few. Maybe they decided to pack first." Chandler gave a sarcastically compliant smirk.   
  
"If by 'first' you mean 'before they have another morning quicky, which is what's ACTUALLY holding them up', then yes. They decided to pack first." Monica smacked his shoulder.   
  
"Oh, come on, just because they're married now doesn't mean the only thing they could be doing it having sex!"   
  
"Do you not remember that first week after our wedding, when we were on our honeymoon?" Chandler asked rhetorically. "We hardly left the room!" Monica begrudgingly agreed.   
  
"So, the real question is...Whose sex is better?" Joey sprung, causing the other three to eye him skeptically and a bit confused.   
  
"What?! Who are you talking about?"   
  
"You know, you and Chandler or Ross and Rachel! Monica, you had a bedroom right next to her for like a year while they were first dating. You have to have SOME idea. Be honest, it's okay. We won't judge!" Joey seemed just a little too comfortable with the conversation, seeing nothing wrong or inappropriate in it. Monica, on the other hand, seemed disgusted. Chandler was unaffected, having know that something to that affect was coming at SOME point from Joey. Before Monica could answer, Ross and Rachel appeared at the table.   
  
"Well, if it isn't Mr. and Mrs. Geller! How was the night?" Phoebe asked. Rachel flipped her hair as she sat down at the table. She was wearing a short lavender sundress with spaghetti straps and a matching choker. Ross held her chair for her before sitting down beside her. She smiled politely, knowing that she was going to answer in a few words but knowing that those words would only be vague masks as to what the night had REALLY been like.   
  
"It was wonderful. Oh, and we're so sorry, you guys, for not talking to you after the ceremony. We feel really bad about that." Ross nodded in agreement.   
  
"Oh, Sweety, don't worry about it. We understood completely. But hey, we were thinking that we'd hang around here until this evening and then head back. There's still a lot of stuff that we haven't done," Monica answered, provoking a befuddled look from Chandler.   
  
"Like what?" Monica shrugged.   
  
"Well, we used to ride horses when we came here as kids. Oh, and there's badminton and tennis. There's a really good lounge singer in the bar tonight, too, so I thought that'd be fun to hear before we left. Come to think of it, the guided nature hike leaves from the lobby in like 30 minutes, so we'd better go get changed, honey!" An overly exuberant Monica grabbed Chandler by the wrist, who was still not done with his lunch, and pulled him towards the elevators.   
  
"Have a good first day as husband and wife, you guys!" she yelled, before they rounded the corner down one of the main hallways.   
  
"Actually, that reminds me. I have a surprise for you," Ross announced, raking Rachel's hand and kissing it. She looked surprised.   
  
"Really? Aw, honey, what is it?"  
  
"Now, I can't tell you or it won't be a surprise! What time is it, like one?" She looked at her watch, nodding in response.   
  
"Okay, tell you what. You go back up to the room and pack, and I'll go talk to some people and set it up. Come down to the lobby at 4, and you'll get your surprise." She looked a little disappointed, turning in her chair to face him.   
  
"Honey," she whined, "that means I don't get to see you for like 3 hours on our first day of being married! What am I supposed to do until 4 o'clock?"   
  
"We can hang out!" Phoebe chimed in. Rachel still looked slightly disappointed. "I mean, it's not 'guided nature hike'," she continued, "but surely we can find SOMETHING to do around this place for 3 hours. It'll be fun- like the girl nights we used to have. Only, it'll be during the day!" Rachel seemed a little more enthused now, and agreed. After kissing Ross goodbye, Rachel left with Phoebe. Joey and Ross were the only two left.   
  
"So, what's the big surprise?" Joey enquired, still working on his meal.   
  
"Rachel told me once that she'd never been canoeing, but she thought that it'd be really romantic at night. So, the guy who owns this place agreed to shut down the lake to all of the resort visitors for 2 hours this evening."  
  
"Wow, man, sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this." Ross nodded.  
  
"Yeah, but I've got a few more finishing touches to put on the whole thing. It's going to take me a while to work it all out, but it'll be worth it when I do. I just wanted to do something special for her."   
  
"You need any help?" Ross shook his head, declining.   
  
"No, thanks. It's going to require an electrician, which I think the resort is providing for me. It shouldn't take that long. Go enjoy the rest of the day, man. I'll catch you later." Just as Ross got up to leave, Joey stopped him.   
  
"Hey, Ross, let me ask you something. Whose sex do you think would be better- you and Rachel's or Chandler and Monica's?" Ross made a disgusted face.   
  
"Dude, what are you doing? That's my sister! I don't want to think about that!"   
  
"Oh, come on! I've always wondered! Here, on a scale from 1-10..." Ross cut him off, putting a hand in the air to stop him.   
  
"Joey, no, I'm not doing this!" Joey put down his fork.   
  
"Okay, okay, fine! Then just tell me about last night. Was it great?" Joey flashed his classic "Joey smile"- the one that might accompany the patented "How you doin'?" Ross hesitated for a beat, then grinned.   
  
"It was amazing. It always is."   
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Why do you think that is?" Ross thought for a second before answering.   
  
"Well, I dreamed about it a lot in high school, but I don't really know if that's it. I guess it's just because we wanted it for so long, but it somehow never worked out. No matter how much I loved her, and no matter how much she loved me, it took us forever to actually get to that place where we could be together and understand one another. So, I guess that's just one way we found of letting each other know that we'd really meant it that whole time- that we'd wanted each other from the beginning."   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
Phoebe and Rachel sat out on the side porch of the main lodge, drinking daiquiris and enjoying the view. It was nearing 4 o'clock, but the sun was already setting behind the hills in the distance. While they drank, they laughed over what Monica probably had Chandler doing and debated over what Ross' surprise could possibly be.   
  
"Oh God, poor Chandler. You know she probably has him doing a Yoga class or sitting in on a poetry reading or something." Rachel laughed, sipping her drink and nodding.   
  
"Yeah, we're probably going to have to help pay for his testicle retrieval operation."   
  
"So, what do you think Ross' surprise is? OH, MAYBE IT'S SKYDIVING!" Phoebe suggested excitedly. Rachel shook her head.   
  
"Are you kidding me? Ross? Skydiving? Just about the only thing less likely than that would be Ross at a live tarantula exhibit."  
  
"Yeah, you're right. I bet it's something really romantic, though" Phoebe suggested. Rachel nodded, unable to contain the smile that spread across her face.   
  
"He is a pretty romantic guy, isn't he?" She found herself wanting to giggle, she was so giddy with anticipation of what he had in store for her. Just then, she jumped when a hair of warm hands shielded her eyes. She knew almost immediately that it was him.   
  
"Guess who," he whispered in her ear before removing his hands from her eyes and kissing the top of her head. He moved around to stand in front of her, and the first thing she noticed was how sharply he was dressed. He'd changed into a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and the collar was undone, giving the effect that he'd been working hard on something. He wasn't wearing a tie and his hair was a little tousled. He was gorgeous, especially with the soft sunlight caressing his tanned skin.   
  
"Ready to go?" he asked, extending his hand to help her up from the chair. She obliged and took it. She waved goodbye to Phoebe, who smiled when she saw how genuinely and girlishly excited Rachel was. She was sure that Ross would never stop making her feel that way. She saw it in her friend's eyes every time he was near her- every time he touched her back when guiding her through a doorway, or rubbed her leg while watching a movie, or tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before kissing her. Rachel's eyes lit up every time.   
  
****************************************************************************  
  
They made their way down to the shoreline hand-in-hand. Occasionally, he would drop her fingers to wrap his arm around her waist and settle his hand on her hip. She'd do the same- squeezing tightly to his side with no intention of ever letting go. When they finally reached the lake, Rachel saw what he'd done.   
  
In the center of the gazebo sat a CD player. It was hooked up to several speakers, which seemed to run on extension cords for quite a few yards in all direction. Tied to the dock, there was a single canoe. It bobbed expectantly up and down in the water, begging to be taken out to play amongst the waves. It wasn't until they were standing on the dock that Rachel could see the purple and white lily petals he'd speckled the boat with. He turned to look at him.   
  
"You always wanted a canoe at nighttime," he said simply, smiling back at her. He helped her into the boat, laughing when it wobbled and she let out a high-pitched squeal. He rocked it intentionally when he boarded, earning him a slap on the leg.   
  
He untied them from the dock and pushed them out into the lake with the end of his paddle. He sat in the back so he could paddle while they made their way into the middle of the lake. Secretly, he watched her back and admired her graceful and feminine movements. She'd been sailing with her dad several times when she was little, but she seemed absolutely baffled by the whole encounter. It was getting darker now. The sun was just moments away from plummeting entirely behind the trees that lined the lake. When they got to the center of the lake, Ross put the paddle down and motioned for Rachel to come sit with him in the middle of the boat.   
  
"What was with the CD player, Ross?" she asked as she clumsily crawled towards where he was sitting on the boat's floor.   
  
"Oh, right, I almost forgot." With that, he pulled a small remote control from his pocket. Even from the 100 yards or so that they were from the gazebo, the sound of speakers switching on was emitted clear over the lake. Seconds later, the soothing sound of Chris Issak's voice singing "Wicked Game" sailed through the air.   
  
"The world was on fire,   
  
and no one could save me but you.   
  
Strange what desire  
  
will make foolish people do.   
  
I never dreamed that I'd   
  
meet somebody like you.   
  
I never dreamed that I  
  
knew somebody like you."  
  
He sat with his back resting against one side of the canoe and his feet pushed against the other. His knees were bent in the middle, and she crawled between them and leaned her back against his chest. He enveloped her in his arms, wrapping them tightly around her stomach. She shivered slightly. It was getting significantly cooler as the sun went down, and she was still just wearing that sundress from that morning.   
  
"Aren't you cold?" he breathed against her ear, kissing her there for emphasis.   
  
"No." She held on tightly to his arms, pushing herself more firmly back against him.   
  
"What a wicked game you play  
  
to make me feel this way.   
  
What a wicked thing to do  
  
to let me dream of you.   
  
What a wicked thing to say-  
  
you never felt this way.   
  
What a wicked thing to do  
  
to make me dream of you."  
  
When she did it, he couldn't help but moan a little and shift his hips forward. It was instinct. She even giggled a little when he did it.   
  
"Sorry," he teased. "Force of habit."   
  
"I want to fall in love.  
  
I want to fall in  
  
with you."  
  
She closed her eyes and let her head lull back against his chest. He was so firm and warm, and something about the way he held her so tightly and protectively to his body, even when no one else was around, made her feel safer than she ever had. There was a quiet stillness when the song shut off, and a moment of static filled the air until the next one began playing.   
  
"It must be your skin  
  
I'm sinking in.   
  
It must be for real,   
  
'cause now I can feel.   
  
And I didn't mind-  
  
it's not my kind.   
  
It's not my time   
  
to wonder why."  
  
"Hmm, this isn't one of our songs," Rachel pointed out.   
  
"I know, but I like it and I think it applies to us. They could never really get it right, but somehow...it worked out anyway."  
  
"Now you're here,   
  
now you're away.   
  
I don't want this.   
  
Remember that?  
  
I'll never forget  
  
where you're at."  
  
Softly but surely, she felt his lips hot against the skin on her neck. He rubbed his nose against her, smelling the scent there that was half perfume and half her. His hands moved slowly from her waist down to her thighs. Hers moved atop his. The song played on.   
  
"I'm never alone.   
  
I'm alone all the time.   
  
Are you at one?  
  
Do you lie?  
  
We live in a wheel  
  
where everyone steals,   
  
but when we rise   
  
it's like strawberry fields.  
  
You treated me bad-  
  
you bruised my face.   
  
Couldn't love you more,   
  
you've got a beautiful taste."  
  
His kisses along her neck, moving occasionally up to her jaw, became bruising as her breathing became capricious. Again, that same predictable silence filled the void until another track could start. Seconds. Painful seconds.   
  
"In every heart,  
  
there is a room-  
  
a sanctuary,   
  
safe and strong,   
  
to heal the wounds   
  
from lovers past  
  
until a new one comes along."  
  
"This song's so sad." Rachel pointed out, directing their attention away from the flames that licked at her skin.  
  
"It is."  
  
"Why did you pick this one?"  
  
"Because this was us."  
  
"And every time I've held a rose,   
  
it seems I've only felt the thorns.  
  
And so it goes, and so it goes,  
  
and so will you soon, I suppose."  
  
That had been him. That was, inside some deep corner of his heart, still him. He had doubted her, with good reason. He had left his heart open to so many women, only to be crushed in the end. She had been one of those women- the main one, really. It saddened her, and so she cried. Silently.   
  
"And this is why my eyes are closed-  
  
its just as well,  
  
from what I've seen.  
  
And so it goes, and so it goes,  
  
and you're the only one who knows."  
  
Just as she had broken his heart, though, she had saved him. More than Carol...more than Lindsay. She had been the one he'd stuck with.   
  
"So I would choose to be with you,  
  
that's if the choice were mine to make.  
  
But you can make decision, too,  
  
and you can have this heart to break."  
  
"No more songs, Ross," she pleaded as his hand melted with the skin between her legs.   
  
"Why not?" he panted, forgetting the question as soon as the last word dripped from his tongue.   
  
"Because...I don't want to remember myself that way. All of these songs..." she stopped and moaned a bit from the back of her throat when his fingers found the lace of her underwear. "All of OUR songs..."she corrected, "they're all so sad. I feel like we got our fairytale ending, Ross. Sometimes I wish we'd had the fairytale story to go along with it." He nodded, understanding.   
  
"I have a better one. I listened to it after that whole list thing. I don's think it's sad, though. I think it's...appropriate." The disk changer rotated and the static disappeared.   
  
"Shed a tear 'cause I'm missing you.  
  
I'm still alright to smile.  
  
I think about you every day now.  
  
There was a time when I wasn't sure,  
  
but you set my mind at ease.  
  
There is no doubt you're in my heart, now.  
  
I said 'woman, take it slow,  
  
it'll work itself out fine.  
  
All we need is just a little patience'.  
  
I said 'sugar, make it slow,  
  
and we'll come together fine.  
  
All we need is just a little patience.'"  
  
They didn't make love that night in the canoe. They did exceed their 2-hour limitation, however, and did not row their boat in until the pitch of the night had swallowed their boat and they were forced to make their way back to the shore by lantern light. They left something out there that night, though. They shed a coat- a skin- that they'd both been wearing for too long. The weightlessness that they felt afterwards was exhilarating. Maybe Ross got his skydiving in, after all.  
  
"I sit here on the stairs because I'd rather be alone.  
  
if I cant have you right now, I'll wait here.  
  
Sometimes, I get so tense  
  
but I cant speed up the time.  
  
You know, love,   
  
there's one more thing to consider."  
  
The other 4 were waiting for them on the shore. New York was waiting for them. Their new life together was waiting for them. Still, they couldn't help but look back over that lake with a sense of wonderment at what had really been discovered there that night. How many secrets have been wordlessly revealed? How many pacts had been forged? How many moons had been walked? How many possible pasts had died and how many future encounters had been born when they let go of all those mistakes and happenstances that had plagued them over the years? Before they piled into the backseat of that steadfast van, they took a clandestine moment between synchronized breaths to thank each other for the will that they'd mustered then and there to face all obstacles with a clean slate. Without another look back, they forged ahead toward another unforeseen adventure at the end of some other open road.  
  
"I said 'sugar, take the time,   
  
'cause the lights are shining bright.  
  
You and I got what it takes to make it.'  
  
We won't fake it."  
  
The End.  
  
"Afoot and light-hearted, I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose."- Walt Whitman 


End file.
